


Under the Stars [Camping AU]

by Vellenox



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Camping, Cub, F/M, Fluff, M/M, Pack Feels, Scent Marking, Shapeshifter, Smut, sterek
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-11-15
Updated: 2015-09-30
Packaged: 2017-11-18 17:09:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 25
Words: 62,270
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/563427
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vellenox/pseuds/Vellenox
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Okay so, Stiles really thought the camping trip was going to be a blast. He really did. Then Derek reminded him that no, this isn't just a camping trip where he's going to let underage kids get drunk, and yes, this was still a part of pack training so everyone needed to participate and listen to the Alpha. Along the way Stiles finds a cub in need of some help and the pack has to band together to face the new threat encroaching on Beacon Hills and its surrounding area.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> All characters are a part of MTV's Teen Wolf and I take absolutely no credit whatsoever in their creation. I just love Sterek. So I needed to write about all these feels, okay? Please comment and give feedback as you'd like :) I LOVE ALL THE FANDOM <3
> 
> Entire work Beta'd by the wonderful, beautiful, brilliant laynacakes <3

“This is going to be awesome! Amazing! Incredible! Fucking _stupendous_!” Because seriously, it was going to be the best weekend _ever_. Camp fires, s'mores, sleeping under the stars, bonding with the pack... It was all either a recipe for an epic, or disaster. Probably both. Stiles fist pumped in the air as Scott gave him what only a best friend could, a sympathetic, compliant smile. He could be a  _little_  more enthusiastic.

Stiles was about to continue articulating the rest of a long list of adjectives he had in mind for the weekend ahead of them, but Isaac interrupted by entering the room with his arms already crossed in tight aggravation across his chest. “Are you guys ready to go?” He asked before looking between Stiles and Scott with a less than impressed look on his face. Guy seriously needed to lighten up.

“Derek's waiting and you're not even done packing Stilinski.” Damn right he wasn't done packing. Many things needed to be brought to ensure the weekend was a success.

In fact,  _all_  of the things.

“Derek can wait, we've got more important  _stuffs_ ,” Stiles motioned towards the pile of assorted awesomeness lying on his bed, “to worry about. Besides, it wouldn't kill him to be a little patient every now and then. He rushes around like it's the end of the world sometimes.” To be fair Derek only did that when something was trying to kill one of them. But still. Patience was a virtue. And one needed  _a lot_  of patience when dealing with Stiles.

Isaac grunted and uncrossed his arms as he examined the awesomeness of things Stiles spoke of. “We don’t need any of this, we're just going away for the weekend. It's not likely we’ll get bored enough to play something like _Scrabble_.” Stiles's mouth fell open in shock, and he gasped in dismay at how easily Isaac disregarded perhaps one of  _the best games ever created._

Stiles was good with words, he used them all the time, words were his greatest defence and offence, and they were seriously beautiful. Just because sometimes he used too many and often ended up with his foot in his mouth, didn't mean that he should start using less (at least Stiles didn't think so) – and he was pretty sure that in a game of _Scrabble_ against the pack he'd be the winner (except perhaps against Lydia) which would be a  _great_ change from how things usually went for him.

There was absolutely no way he wasn't bringing Scrabble.

Scott started nodding. “Isaac has a point Stiles, we'll be doing a lot of other things when we get out there.” That traitor. Obviously Scott was just too afraid to play against him, 'cause he knew that he'd lose. Maybe if he'd paid more attention in class than to Allison he could've expanded his vocabulary from one hundred words to at least one thousand. It was possible.

Well, maybe not.

“No! No. Absolutely not. There is no way in hell I'm budging on this. You guys get to go up there and wolf out, leaving me alone with Lydia and Allison, okay, while you all bound around together doing God knows what, killing and eating the furry forest critters. I am bringing this whether you guys like it or not!” Stiles sounded like a five year old. He didn't particularly care.

Scott was about to open his mouth and say something when suddenly his body went rigid and his face froze, and he stared worriedly at Stiles's bedroom window. Isaac disappeared from the room completely. “What the hell is taking you idiots so long?” A low, angry growl demanded, and Stiles internally groaned. Talking about opposing an Alpha and doing it were entirely two different matters that never, ever mixed with the other. Nope.

“Scott won't let me bring Scrabble.” Stiles blurted and only somewhat regretted that he was throwing his best friend under the bus. Whatever. Scott was a traitor first. He must've taken lessons from Peter.

Derek's entire body tensed, his usual angry glare full of irritation and impatience. _Shit_. Stiles braced himself to be thrown against the nearest wall (or really any flat surface that was closest), but Derek actually seemed to relax after a minute. He was no longer about to turn into the Hulk – he actually managed to remain his Bruce Banner self. Well, the broodier, emotionally constipated, over-assertive version of Bruce. He wasn't as adorable as Mark Ruffalo either, but that man was just obscene levels of cute. Derek was just sexy. And rugged. And Stiles really hoped his fear masked the scent of whatever his little buddy downstairs was doing.

Stiles wondered how Derek would react if he bought him a Hulk toy for Christmas this year.

“Stiles, you do realize we're camping right? In the middle of a forest.” Derek didn't even sound upset. But Stiles knew better. Derek was _always_ angry. Another thing he and the loveable green giant had in common.

 _Oh_ , he was _so_ buying Derek a stuffed Hulk.

“Yes, I am well aware of that. Why do you think I want to bring it so bad?” This was a losing fight. There was absolutely no way he could go up against Derek and win. No matter how much Stiles protested and fought (with obvious sense and some very persuasive logic), Derek would just grunt, break whatever object it was that Stiles wanted to bring, and stomp out of the room. Because he was such an asshole. A huge, angsty, werewolf, Alpha asshole.

“You’re not bringing it.” Derek stated and crossed his arms. Seriously as stubborn as a mule. Maybe even more stubborn that Stiles's dad when it came to eating healthier (which meant giving up bacon – and in that fight Stiles also knew he would never win). So, he did what any logical, determined person would do in this sort of situation.

He sat down on his bed and refused to move (which probably wouldn't last because Stiles couldn't sit still for even a second, but it was the principle of the thing, okay?). “Scrabble and I are a packaged deal. Either we both go or we both stay here.” He hoped to God that Derek wouldn't just leave him there for the weekend. Because that would totally suck balls.

This pack meant the world to Stiles – even if some in the group, who shall remain anonymous (Jackson) were total douche bags (Jackson) – he would do anything for them. And he expected the same thing in return. So they should let him bring the stupid game god damn it.

Derek seemed to think it over for a second, weighing the options, and no doubt taking into consideration the fact that Stiles was going to be an irritating chattering  _Stiles_. Which was just rude, okay? Because Stiles wasn't always irritating. Chattering yes, but there was nothing anyone could do about that.

Without a word Derek reached out and grabbed Stiles's arm, yanked him over his shoulder, and turned to the bedroom door. Stiles let out (a very manly, not high pitched at all) yelp of surprise. “Scott grab his bag and let's go.” Derek ordered, completely ignoring the fact that Stiles was struggling uselessly to get out of this extremely embarrassing, emasculating situation.

Scott didn't even hesitate, the bastard. You'd think as Stiles's best friend, since like forever, he could at least practice  _some_  loyalty to him. Even if it _was_ on the orders of their Alpha. But come on, bros before werewolf assholes.

“This isn't even cool man, I feel like a rag doll. You’re swinging me around like I'm your rag doll!” Stiles protested as Derek carried him out of his bedroom and down the stairs. Stiles's face smacked into Derek's back several times before Stiles managed to steady himself. “As much as I love sweaty werewolf back in my face,” as well as a very clear (and he had to admit very nice) view of Derek's ass, “I'd really appreciate not being manhandled. Do you even know how to use words to politely ask someone to follow you? Or do you make it a daily occurrence to swing people over your shoulder and take them against their will?”

Derek made a grunting sound (which believe it or not Derek, is  _not actually talking_ ) and continued on his way out of the house and down to the van they had rented for the drive up to the Conservation area. Allison was already waiting in one of the back seats along with Isaac.

As luck would have it (which _really,_ Stiles was probably just a black hole that literally sucked luck up and made it disappear) another van that held Lydia, Danny, Boyd, Erica, and Jackson pulled up just as Derek was marching out of the house with Stiles's ass formally greeting everyone. On rare occasions was Stiles ever embarrassed – he had grown up awkward and had adapted a certain resilience to it. This was definitely one of those occasions.

He could hear the pack laughing, could feel his face growing hot with humiliation. “Yes, _ha ha ha_ , this is hilarious. Can't you hear me laughing? Because really, I am.” Stiles said dryly as Derek finally set him down, and Stiles could straighten himself out and maintain what little dignity he had left. He really didn't want to think about how much he had felt like Princess Peach being carried away by Bowser. Because that totally wasn't cool and it in no way helped him piece his pride back together.

Jackson rolled down his window, leaning out of it with a smug smile on his face that made Stiles want to punch him square in the mouth (even more so than usual). “What's wrong Stilinski, forget how to use your legs? Not like you were any good with them in the first place.” What a fucking douche bag. No, he was more than that. He was douche bag extraordinaire, the douchiest douche that ever did douche. A fucking douche canoe. The mayor of douchetropolis. Douchezilla.

Stiles was about to inform Jackson of this when the laughter abruptly stopped and everyone was looking at Derek. Because he was obviously in no mood for anyone's shit today. Stiles thought this weekend was going to be fun; a nice time away for the pack to bond and be free to be themselves. Obviously that would be a camping trip that didn't include Derek.

“We're leaving.” Derek informed them (more like barked at them and expected compliance – which was exactly what Stiles would give Derek because seriously, he did not want to be thrown over his shoulder again, no matter how good a view of sculpted ass it gave him).

So, instead of making this as difficult as he possibly could for the sake of his own wounded pride, Stiles began towards the driver's seat of the van. As he reached out to open the door he suddenly felt someone push up against his back and he froze.

“What do you think you're doing?” Derek growled as he loomed over Stiles's shoulder. Had the dude ever heard of personal space?

“Well I  _thought_  I was driving.” Which was totally the wrong thing to think apparently, but really, could he be held responsible for his thoughts? Derek thought so. He forced Stiles's arm behind his back and pushed Stiles up against the driver's door. Stiles groaned out his disapproval of the action. “Dude come on. It's like you don’t understand what words are!”

Derek leaned in closer until his lips almost brushed against Stiles's ear, which totally did not turn Stiles on in the least. Nope. “How's this.” Derek growled, his breath hot against Stiles's skin.

So not turning him on. Fuck. Think about really unpleasant, boner-killing things. Think about dead puppies. About almost having to cut off Derek's arm. About Romney running for President.  _Anything other than the fact that Derek’s entire body is brushing against his back._

“I'm going to drive, you are going to sit in the passenger seat where you belong, and not a single word is going to come out of your mouth the entire ride to the Conservation.”

He hit Stiles up against the door once more for good measure before letting him go entirely. Stiles stood up straight, made a point of brushing himself off, and walked to the opposite side of the van. All while he was thinking about dead puppies to fight away all Derek Hale boner-inducing thoughts. Because seriously, what the hell.

Everyone quickly packed the bags and piled in, no one else wanting to fuck with Derek today. Stiles wasn't sure what had gotten Derek's panties in a twist, but it seemed like  _he_  was the unfortunate one Derek was going to take it out on. _Wonderful_. This was going to be such an awesome weekend; that is, if you thought a weekend full of 'roid rage Derek was awesome.

Stiles sighed and stared out the window. At least there wasn't going to be a full moon.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A basic summary of what happened during the Alpha pack invasion on Beacon Hills. :)

The ride there actually wasn't as bad as Stiles thought it was going to be. Sure, Allison and Scott were being so cute that Stiles wanted to throw up, and maybe the way Isaac watched Scott with his puppy dog expression was a little sketchy, but Derek didn't even hit him  _once_. Which was a success in Stiles's book.

He wasn't surprised when all of five minutes had passed and he'd already managed to break the rule of no-talking. “So, how awesome is this going to be guys? Out in the middle of nowhere, a whole forest to ourselves. Ohmygod. Can we make s'mores? That would be awesome! Did someone pack marshmallows?” Derek tilted his head in Stiles's direction, and his knuckles whitened under the strain of his fingers curling tightly around the steering wheel, but he remained silent and within his own personal space.

Stiles took that as green light says go.

“I've never really been camping before, like in the actual wild. A forest. With werewolves. I mean, my dad and I tried pitching a tent in our backyard a few times but obviously that's not the same as this. Right?” No one responded. Clearly he had to carry on the conversation alone, but he was used to it by now. Especially in Derek's presence. “Right. So, is there going to be a lake or something? I packed swim trunks just in case. Did anyone else?”

Allison and Scott were nuzzling their noses together, caught up in their own little world, but she pulled away long enough to answer one out of Stiles's array of questions. “There's a lake somewhere on the conservation, I brought a bathing suit.” Scott perked up at that.

“I like the sound of that.” He crooned like it was just the two of them alone – which Scott, hello, there were three other people watching this vomit inducing display of affection. When Allison saw Stiles's grossed out glare and Isaac's awkward shifting in his seat, she smacked Scott. “Uh, I mean. I really like the sound of swimming. As a pack. You know.” Scott tried to salvage the uncomfortable situation.

Stiles smirked. “I'm not going anywhere near you. For some reason I don't think  _my_  kind of swimming is what you have in mind.” Scott blushed and buried his face in Allison's hair, kissing her shoulder and making a point of scenting her. Stiles sat back in his seat, ignoring the giggling that soon erupted from the both of them.

“Stiles, this trip won't be anything like what your father and you did. The Conservation is larger and for the most part unknown. We have to be smart and we have to be careful.” Derek paused as Stiles turned a surprise gaze on him. Because why was Derek even talking, let alone to  _him_. Derek ignored the look and continued. “If you wander off and get lost I swear to God Stiles…” He left the threat hanging but Stiles just huffed out a laugh.

“What? You'll take a whiff of a pair of my boxers and sniff me out like Lassie?” Stiles had a stupid smile on his face but it disappeared when he heard Derek growl. “Oh right, no, you're more like Cujo. Sorry man, my bad.” The fact that Derek didn't reach over and end Stiles right then and there was a miracle all in its self.

“No, I'll just let a mountain lion kill you.” Derek snarked, and continued to glare at the windshield **.** Stiles sat back in his seat and let out an exasperated sigh.

“You know, you could be a little nicer man. I'm in your pack aren't I? Doesn't that basically mean you have to protect me?” Stiles asked but received a growl – though Stiles could almost swear he heard a derisive sort of chortle in it – as an answer. Stiles _was_  technically a pack member, Derek had even admitted to it on a couple separate occasions.

In the beginning both Stiles and Scott weren't exceptionally thrilled about the idea, having been so adamantly against the idea for pretty much an entire year. But then the Alpha pack strolled into town, making both of the boys painfully aware of the fact that if they didn't join up with a pack, Scott was going to be seriously fucked.

The werewolf world was based heavily upon a certain set of dynamics –  _pack_  dynamics. If you weren't in a pack, if you were an  _omega_ , then the chances of you  _not_  being killed were practically one in a billion. Scott very much appreciated life, as did Stiles, so after everything was said and done they opted to extend their lives by joining the grumpy Hale pack.

Derek had been surprised when Scott, Stiles, and Allison approached him about it.

So much had happened during the Alpha pack's stay in Beacon Hills. Derek's pack had only  _barely_  managed to survive, but Scott had literally almost died. He had been on the brink of death when Isaac had saved him. He'd brought Scott back to their abandoned subway station hideout – even though it was their pack's den and Derek was furious that Isaac had betrayed its location to a werewolf not a part of the pack.

Then it was Stiles's turn to almost die – but luckily for him he had more brains than Scott and hadn't walked right into the middle of a territory battle between Derek and the Alphas. No, instead one of the Alphas had  _hunted him down_  and tried to execute him in  _his own bedroom_. Which was so not okay, partially because Stiles did not want to die, but also because  _his father_  had been at home, asleep only a few doors down, when the Alpha was in the house trying to brutally murder Stiles.

How he'd managed to even get out of  _that_  Stiles wasn't sure. It was part luck, part being  _really fucking good at improvising_ , and part Derek Hale that had gotten him out of it – which he still didn't really like to admit.

Stiles had gotten home one night after helping Scott and Deaton with some supernatural scary ass mother fucking shit. He climbed the stairs up to his bedroom, opened the door, and there was the Alpha waiting patiently on his bed for him.

Stiles still refuses to admit the stupid smirk that rose onto his lips – because hey, hot Alpha lying on his bed, who wouldn't crack a smile at that? But her innocent stance was all just a ploy to keep Stiles from immediately kicking her ass into little wolfie Heaven (which he could definitely do using the six shooter Chris had given him loaded with wolfsbane bullets). So, he entered with his defenses down, like an idiot.

And when he approached her she pounced, knocking his back up against his closed door. Which was not cool. What was it with werewolves and pushing him up against shit? Especially his bedroom door. There was absolutely no reason for it.

You know, maybe if they used their words and just had an actual  _conversation_  with him, maybe he'd be more compliant. Maybe he'd actually want to help them. If they were actually  _nice_  or  _respectful_  of the fact that he was a human, and he was logical, and really if they asked him  _politely_ , it was possible he wouldn't want to rebel against their assholeyness.

As it stood all werewolves were complete jerks so being accommodating was entirely off the table.

She had barely said anything at all, apparently wanting to get right to the point, which were her claws ripping out Stiles's throat. Before she could finish him off though, Derek appeared just in time, grabbing her and throwing her across the room. She hit the wall with a loud  _crash_  and the house seemed to shudder with the impact.

“Holy fuck! Derek where the hell did you come from?” Stiles had yelled out in surprise. Derek turned to him, completely wolfed out, and Stiles froze. “Derek?” Stiles asked, his voice breaking. Derek snarled – basically telling Stiles to shut the fuck up and get the hell out of there before  _he_ decided to rip Stiles apart instead – and Stiles quickly remembered that he was still in danger. And he still fucking hated when Derek tried to save the day. Stiles was Batman damn it. Not some helpless princess in need of rescuing.

So, instead of leaving and letting Derek save his ass, he raced back down the stairs to his jeep and grabbed the wolfsbane he had in the glove box in case of emergency. When Derek crashed through Stiles's window and out onto the front yard, shards of glass and brick showering around him as he fell, it officially became an emergency. A _Code Red:_ _Stiles is seriously fucked if he doesn't do something_ kind of emergency.

“Shit, fuck, _shit_!” Stiles muttered in panic as he started towards Derek with his six shooter aimed and ready. He looked up at his window to see if the she-wolf was there but all he could see was his empty, torn apart bedroom. His fucking _ruined_ bedroom, and he could see it all from  _outside_ the gaping hole in the wall. His dad was going to kill him.

“Stiles what are you doing? Get out of here!” Derek ordered but Stiles wasn't listening. He was too focused on the fact that there was a werewolf somewhere inside of his house with his  _father_  who probably was no longer sleeping.

“Dude, my dad's in there! I can't just let some werewolf wander around in my house, making herself at home, when my  _dad is in there_.” He took a step towards the house but Derek grabbed him and threw him behind him, letting out a fierce roar in the direction of the front door of the house. Stiles let out an annoyed noise before looking over to see that the Alpha had left it and was now making her way towards them.

“Just stay behind me,” Derek had snarled, keeping a hand firmly against Stiles's chest. He wasn't a child anymore, he was a part of this supernatural world now, and he accepted the responsibilities of what was needed of him to protect his family and his friends. He shoved Derek's hand away and began towards the other Alpha.

“No, this ends tonight. I'm sick and tired of always being afraid, not knowing what everyone else is doing. I know what  _I'm_  doing, and right now it's killing this bitch so I don't have to worry about her coming back and threatening me or my dad.” He held out the gun and the she-wolf smirked, pleased that her prey was giving her something to play with. He cocked the gun and aimed.

Before he could pull the trigger she was on him, pinning his body down underneath her and gripping his wrist. Her claws pierced the skin and cut deep enough to break the bone there. Stiles screamed out in pain – which was understandable because his bone was literally being snapped in half by Alpha claws – and he dropped the gun. Her deep red eyes glowered at him, a look of amusement in them. She leaned in close enough that the tips of their noses touched.

“What was that about killing this  _bitch_?” She asked, her breath hot against Stiles's lips. He struggled against her even though he knew she wouldn't budge. So maybe confronting her head on may have not been the best idea.

“Well isn't that what you are?” Stiles choked out just before she shoved her forearm into his throat and he let out a, “ _nyeh_ ,” as his windpipe was blocked. “I know it isn’t scientific or anything, but you’re a female dog essentially so, bitch seems fitting.” She pushed her arm harder against his throat, eyes red and furious.

Jeez, it was like werewolves didn't know how to take a joke. And they were really touchy about being compared to dogs.

“It's so unfortunate,” she murmured as she considered him, “you really do have just  _perfect_  lips.” She let up on the hold she held on his throat just enough for him to take a deep breath of air in.

“Oh, great, please don't tell me I have a _purdy_ mouth, I don't think I could handle that.” Stiles choked out. Hey, if he was going to die he was at least going to go out with a bang. Hopefully not a  _purdy mouth_  related bang but whatever.

“Perfect lips used for the worst sense of humour.” She growled and pressed so deep into his throat he was beginning to see blackness scratching at the edges of his vision. Stiles's body shuddered and twitched as it fought against the crushing hold on it, but failed.

He was going to black out, probably die; his sense of humour was in question and he couldn't even defend it. Where was the honour in that?

Luckily for him Derek hadn't completely abandoned his sorry ass to die at the hands of this humourless bee-otch. Suddenly the Alpha was torn away from Stiles's struggling body. He gasped in air, barely maintaining consciousness. As he coughed and wheezed, he semi-coherently watched as Derek and the female Alpha clawed and bite at each other, drawing blood and causing Stiles's head to swirl even more.

It wasn't long before Derek overpowered her and killed her. He was faster, bigger, and stronger. Without her pack she was easy prey.

That's when it started to really dawn on Stiles. No matter how strong Scott was, or how smart Stiles was, without a pack they were too vulnerable. Up until that point they hadn't trusted Derek or any of his pack members. But here Derek was, risking his own hide to save Stiles. It hadn't been in part to save his own ass; the Alpha had only attacked Stiles. Derek could've let her kill him, in fact Stiles thought he would. But Derek had shown up. And that meant something. It really did.

Both Jackson and Lydia joined up with Derek, followed soon after by Danny (who may or may not have found out about werewolves in chem class when Stiles may or may not have spoken about it without realizing that hey, other people were in the classroom too but whatever). Before the Alpha pack showed their sorry faces, Derek offered Danny the bite and Danny had accepted. So now almost everyone Stiles knew was a werewolf, and he was not.

Even Boyd and Erica rejoined Derek's pack. Though it almost seemed like they had never left. Their families were still living in Beacon Hills and it wasn't like they had anywhere else to go. Derek could have turned them away, for leaving him in the first place, but he didn't. He welcomed them without batting an eyelash, like it had never even happened.

After that it literally was only Scott and Stiles, in their own two-man pack. Which was great and everything because it had always sorta been that way, but that was before when there hadn't been creatures of the night stalking them and trying to viciously murder them.

Then Allison re-entered the picture. Chris had a change of heart about Scott. Ever since he sided with Derek against his own geriatric, psychotic father, Chris's entire viewpoint had shifted. That meant Allison was free to be with Scott if she chose to be, and when time and time again he was there by her side to back her up during the Alpha pack invasion, Chris realized how loyal Scott was, and how much he loved her. And that solidified their bond.

When Scott realized how vulnerable all of them were he finally agreed to be a part of Derek's pack, on one very strict condition. Peter would no longer be allowed to hang around. Derek seemed a little torn about the idea, after all, he and Peter had been through a lot together and they were still family, but he agreed that Peter wouldn't be given full access to pack membership.

Together they defeated the Alpha pack, and since then had grown closer. So close that Stiles actually believed they were creating something. A family. Which honestly, as sad as it really was, none of them had truly had before. And for at least for some, didn't have _anymore_.

So, instead of facing the unknown world of werewolves and other crazy ass mystical, supernatural shit that they had been forced into alone, they were now facing it down with a  _family_. Which was fucking awesome. And Stiles didn't really want to thank Derek, because he was a broody asshole, but this pack never would've happened without him.

Which was totally the reason why Stiles hadn't killed him yet. The only reason. It wouldn't stop him from doing anything in his power to defend the one's he loved though; if Derek stepped out of line again the bastard better be carrying around some wolfsbane antidote.

But if anyone fucked with Derek… then Stiles would make damn sure he was there to back him. The same went for bi-polar Erica, silent Boyd, adorable puppy Isaac, douche fuck Jackson, lovable Danny (who  _had_  to think Stiles was attractive – I mean come on, have you seen his super sweet, chestnut eyes? Irresistible), heartthrob, genius, beautiful Lydia (who he was starting to get over because he had come to terms with the fact her heart belonged to a douche fuck – but hey, he was allowed to state the truth), kick ass Allison, and his meat head of a best friend Scott.

It just seemed like there were more people that Stiles loved that needed defending, that was all. But he wasn’t gonna be a sap about it.


	3. Chapter 3

“Seriously Stiles? I specifically reminded everyone that we  _were not making any stops_.” Derek growled and Stiles groaned in annoyance.

“What am I supposed to do Derek? Tell my bladder not to explode?” Derek licked his lips and looked over at Stiles, his eyebrows raised and his features in his usual Stiles-you're-an-idiot expression. Typical. “Seriously Derek.” Derek let out a puff of air and switched on the turning signal, getting ready to pull off onto the side of the road.

It had only been fifteen minutes since they left Stiles's house. Another fifteen and they'd be at the conservation. Stiles could understand why Derek was pissed but Stiles hadn't had to go fifteen minutes ago. He had to go now. And it was either in the seat of this van or in the bushes. It was up to Derek.

Luckily he chose the bushes.

As soon as the van pulled over Stiles raced out of the car. He was about to head for the privacy of the forest when he felt a strong hand wrap around his arm. He yelped in surprise and looked behind him to see Derek's glare right next to his face. “Okay,” Stiles whimpered, flinching away and almost fell over, “what the hell?” When had Derek even gotten out of the van? Damned super wolf powers. Gave them all completely unfair advantages.

“You don't know what could be waiting for you around one of those trees.” Derek answered, still not letting up on his vice grip he had on Stiles's arm. “Starting now I'm instituting a buddy system.” Stiles could hear the groans coming from within the two roadside parked vans. He began to protest too, because he wasn't a baby anymore and he didn't need Derek to hold his hand –  _especially not when all he wanted to do was take a piss_. The laser beam level of glare that Derek shot at him kept Stiles silent though.

He huffed out in irritation and yanked his arm away. “Fine then wolfie, do your thing. Smell out predators or whatever so I can do my business.” He motioned for Derek to lead the way, waving his hands impatiently. Stiles definitely did not yelp when Derek's warm hand pinched the back of his neck and pushed him forward into the trees. “Seriously dude? I thought we talked about this!”

Derek snorted in reply and  _actually_  let Stiles go. Which may not have been what Stiles wanted. Especially when his foot caught on a tree root and he was sent plummeting towards the ground. Derek reacted quickly, grabbing Stiles's shirt and righting him before letting out an irritated huff. Stiles swore he could literally hear the Alpha's eyes rolling.

“You've gotta be the clumsiest human I know.” Derek growled and Stiles felt heat rising in his face. It wasn't his fault he was a sixteen – almost seventeen – year old going through random growth spurts. It wasn't his fault that his limbs were awkward and he was uncoordinated, like his mother had been, so  _that_  was obviously hereditary which meant Stiles had no control over it. And it definitely was not his fault that the tree root decided to ensnare his foot in its evil grip and trip him.

“Oh, sorry Derek, next time I'll be sure to have super werewolf reflexes.” Stiles paused and immediately wanted to take it back. “I mean, well, no. I don't want werewolf powers at all, because, you know. Human right here. Don't want the bite. Was not an invitation to bite me. Trust me, you'll know when I want you to bite me.” And then he felt his blood rushing all over again as images of Derek's teeth  _anywhere_  on his body played in his head totally  _uninvited_  and he hoped to God Derek didn't hear his heart spike or smell anything questionable. Like arousal. Because that wasn't happening. Nope. “For the love of… I mean. Okay.  _I don't want to be a werewolf_.” He tried to back track, clarify, but the amused smirk on Derek's lips meant the wolf knew exactly how awkward Stiles felt and the bastard was  _laughing at him for it_.

“Whatever you say Stiles. Hurry up and take a piss, the pack's waiting.” Derek ordered, walking ahead of Stiles and into the cover of the treeline. Stiles stifled a huff of exasperation and followed the Alpha. When they were far enough that they were hidden from the road Derek stopped and turned to Stiles expectantly. When he didn't make a move, Derek's eyebrow raised and he crossed his arms tightly over his chest. “Well?”

Stiles hadn't really been paying attention, to be honest. He may or may not have been thinking about the existence of other supernatural creatures, like vampires, witches, fae folk, mermaids, shape shifters, etcetera. Zoning out was kind of his thing. With Derek standing there, looking at him with a scowl, Stiles finally snapped back to the present. “Right.” He said and scratched his forehead, looking around for some cover he could use so that Derek wasn't left watching him while he peed. Because holy fuck that would be awkward.

He quickly darted behind a tree to his right, its width large enough that he'd be invisible to Derek. Derek's expression was once again amused but he didn't say anything. Like he never said anything. Just stood there with that smug, condescending look on his face.

As Stiles unzipped and began relieving his bladder he started chuckling. “Haha! Hey! I'm marking the tree! I guess I don't have to be a werewolf to partake in the simplest pleasures of dog life.” Stiles laughed to himself and heard a loud groan from Derek.

“What is it with you and telling dog jokes? Are you seriously that unoriginal?” Derek asked, and there was a tone of irritation in it, something that gave an intense pleasure to Stiles for an unknown reason.

“And I suppose dark, angsty, grumpy, leather-wearing, and brooding is totally unique?” Stiles asked, leaving out the  _and handsome too_. Derek screamed stereotype. The way he kept to the shadows,  _always wore black_ , and hid himself away to brood. It was like he belonged in some underground poetry club where he could write about his feelings and reveal that he's actually super sensitive under the cold exterior.

Stiles could only imagine all the  _feelings_  Derek kept imprisoned somewhere inside of him. There had to be an outlet, Derek would've literally combusted by now if he was holding everything inside and letting none of it out at least sometimes. Maybe working out was his way of channelling, which in that case, God bless. Because Derek's body was just. Perfect.

And Stiles had to remember that Derek was standing five feet away and probably wondering what the hell was taking so long.

“Stiles. If we're even five minutes late to the camp site you're setting up the tents. Alone.” Derek grumbled as Stiles rejoined him and they started back towards their pack.

And that's exactly how Stiles ended up a half an hour later tangled up in tent mesh and poles. And they weren't even the kind of poles Stiles liked.


	4. Chapter 4

“Erica, Boyd, and Isaac, you guys get to gather firewood. Danny, Scott, and Jackson, you're coming with me. We're going to scout the area, make sure there aren't any threats to our territory.” Derek commanded, the perfect model of authority, which usually meant that there would be some rebellion but not if they all wanted to keep their heads attached to their bodies. So they all nodded in compliance. If Stiles didn't know any better he'd point out the fact that Derek's lips were slowly curling upwards, which may allude to  _fondness_ or some other  _positive_  sort of emotion. Directed at them. 

And then Erica had to ruin it for all of them.

“Why can't I scout with you guys? Firewood isn't a three person job.” She crossed her arms defiantly. So, maybe she wanted to die. “I could probably do a better job at scouting than the two newest wolves and the blissfully ignorant lover boy over there.” And bless Scott for his terrible timing because it was exactly at that moment he decided to get lost in Allison's eyes. Everyone just stared at Scott silently until he realized he was supposed to be doing something.

“Uh… what?” He asked and Erica rolled her eyes.

“See Derek?” Erica smirked and raised a cocky eyebrow, thinking she had already won the argument. What she didn't understand was it wasn't even open for discussion to begin with and she sure as hell hadn't won anything.

“All I see is a Beta disobeying her Alpha.” Derek growled, his Alpha red eyes pinning her to the spot. A shiver ran down Stiles's spine and he wanted to be anywhere but standing there like an idiot, still tangled in tent. Derek usually refrained from wolfing out in front of the humans, especially for no other reason than to threaten. Every time it did happen Stiles was reminded how easily Derek could tear all of them apart if he really wanted to. And that was not a nice thing to be reminded of.

Suddenly Derek moved on her, pinned her to the tree and kept her there with his own body mass. “Derek,” she whined, “I'm sorry.” She sounded like a kicked dog. Her ego was probably bruised more than anything.

“You're going with Boyd and Isaac. Because I told you to.” He gave Erica a hard push towards Boyd who caught her and held her protectively in his arms. “Each and every single one of you need to start listening to me. Without order we have chaos. And in chaos we'll die. We won't be pack if all of us are trying to undermine each other, because as soon as that happens, as soon as we stop trusting and listening, we're all just Omegas pretending to be pack.” Derek paused and glanced over at Scott and Allison. “You all accepted me as your Alpha. That means that from now on you look to me to lead you.” His glare landed back on Erica. “Without question. You have to trust me.”

“Wait, are we going to start doing trust exercises? Like falling back into each other's arms? Because if we do I totally call Erica.” Stiles jested, trying to lift the mood. Such a bad idea. Even worse than the time he thought it would be awesome to go into the woods and find the ripped apart body of Laura Hale.

Derek grunted and glared at Stiles. “Stiles, after you're done pitching the tents you can start on digging the latrine.” Stiles, along with the rest of the pack, groaned in unison.

“No one said anything about using medieval plumbing methods.” Lydia began to protest but suddenly Derek's glare was on her. Dude seriously needed to tone down on the testosterone. All that glowering was going to result in a hernia. “But I guess if there aren't any other options, a festering hole of bacteria will be just fine. Come on Stiles.” Lydia finished and grabbed a hold of Stiles's wrist, tugging him harshly out of his tangle and towards their destination.

“Lydia I'm not done with the tents!” Stiles choked out as he tried to maintain some balance as she hauled him away from the rest of the pack.

“Don't worry I'll finish them.” Allison called back and Stiles let out a small sigh of relief. Those tents weren't exactly Stiles-friendly. And then he remembered that he was going to be  _digging a latrine_  and the relief was quickly replaced by horrification. Lydia only paused when she grabbed a shovel out of one of the packs then continued on her one-woman stampede with Stiles dragging behind.

When they were far enough from the campsite Lydia stopped and nodded to herself. “This is it. The perfect spot for us to talk.” Which totally caught Stiles off guard and inevitably he tripped over his own two feet, landing face down in the dirt. “Are you sure you don’t want the bite Stiles? If by some miracle you survive it you wouldn't have to worry about falling all over yourself.” Lydia tilted her head and smiled contemptuously at him.

“I'm not normally this… clumsy.” Which was true, only occasionally did he have trouble distinguishing his left foot from his right, but today he was having more trouble than usual. Lydia smirked at him, believing otherwise. “Whatever. What do you want to talk about?” His heart beat faster for a moment as he played around with the idea that there was a more intimate reason Lydia wanted to get him alone but his brain knew better than that.

She pursed her lips and crossed her arms. She looked at him, calculating, before she let out a little puff of air. “Stiles, start digging.” She finally said and motioned to the ground. Right. The actual reason why they were out there alone. Stiles immediately began to work away at the dirt. Long minutes ticked by as Lydia sat regally on a stump nearby, silently observing him. Finally, after Stiles had made a decent sized dent, she stopped biting her lower lip. “We need to talk about your thing for our Alpha.” A sound came out of Stiles; a half whimper, half yelp of surprise. “Oh come on. Stiles, you've been crushing on me for years. I know your signs. You're a dead giveaway to me.” Which okay, was understandable, but she had literally ignored him for most of that time so… it just wasn’t fair.

“I do not have a  _thing_  for Derek, Lydia.” Stiles scoffed. He liked to refer to it more as a curiosity. Of what sounds Derek would make with Stiles's mouth around his dick. Or if Derek was a biter. Or if Derek's mouth was as hot as Stiles imagined it would be.

“You're totally picturing him naked right now aren't you,” she stated rather than asked. Stiles didn't even answer because it would be futile now to deny it. Lydia was an evil, conniving, mastermind, and he was one hundred percent glad she was on their side. “Look I already know you and Danny made out at the last party. He told me you asked him, as a friend, just to see how it felt or whatever. My advice, don't use that line on Derek. Please.”

“Obviously not.” Stiles scoffed, then watched as Lydia's smile grew triumphant. Ah fuck.

“I  _knew_  you liked him. I don't see why you even bother trying to keep things from me Stiles.” She raised her eyebrows and smiled devilishly. Stiles rolled his eyes and tried to focus on digging himself a deeper hole than the one that he had spoken himself into.

“It's whatever. A year ago I hated the guy, probably wouldn't have even thought twice about throwing him to the wolves – figuratively and literally. Although he'd probably be right at home there. Whatever. You know what I mean.” He grumbled and tossed up a shovel full of dirt onto himself accidentally. “Son of a bitch!” He groaned and began brushing himself off angrily. “Anyways, it doesn’t matter. He hates me. He only tolerates me for Scott's sake. And you should know better than anyone else that whatever's there between him and I… or just me I guess… is chemical. Purely just a sexual itch that I have yet to scratch and he just happens to be extremely,  _unfairly_  fucking good looking.”

Lydia nodded her agreement but she still didn't look entirely convinced that that's all there was to it. She didn't know about the times Stiles and Derek had been there for each other, protecting and fighting for rather than against; none of the pack did. But all of that didn't really mean anything, right? Right.

“He doesn't hate you Stiles.” Lydia remarked and… genuinely smiled at Stiles. An honest to God smile, like she was encouraging him. What the hell? Stiles had to admit it was weird, even though they were a part of the same pack now, Lydia and him having a conversation at all was just… it didn’t make sense. But Stiles appreciated it. Even if he knew she was wrong.

“Look, Lydia, I get that you… I don't know, actually think this would benefit the pack in some way? Or something. Honestly I don't really get why we're having this conversation, or your motives, and I don't think I even want to. But Derek and I just won't work. That's just how it is, okay? I'd really appreciate dropping the subject. Especially since we're in the middle of a forest surrounded by werewolves with super hearing.” If Derek had caught any of their conversation Stiles would be dead. Either way, dead or alive, it would be the most embarrassing moment of his entire life. If Derek didn't kill him, the sheer humiliation would.

Lydia sighed. “I think he may actually like you-,” she started but he cut her off with a look he never thought he would ever point in her direction.

“I also don't need you consoling me. I'm used to being ignored by the person I have feelings for. Years of practice.” He sounded a lot more bitter than he had intended to, but the words were out there now, hanging there and making Stiles feel even worse. Lydia immediately dropped it all together and gave Stiles a hurt but irritated look that told him this wasn't over.

Wonderful.

They spent the remaining time silent, which was a little painful for Stiles. What made it bearable was focusing on the job at hand, the repetitive motion of digging, and keeping his mind away from Derek. He fell into the repetition and allowed his mind to almost completely clear.

For about two minutes actually. And then his brain kicked into overdrive and the Adderall only barely managed to keep his mouth shut. When the latrine was finished, Stiles did a silent victory dance and the two of them started back towards the campsite.

“I'm sorry Stiles.” Lydia said, and it even sounded sincere. He allowed himself a quick glance to see that her face had fallen; she looked deep in contemplation. That was a look he didn't see very often. It was the expression Lydia had kept to herself, hidden away from all the people she had associated herself with over the years. It only appeared when she thought no one was looking. It was peaceful and thoughtful and everything Stiles had fallen in love with.

Stiles wanted to say something that let her know she had nothing to apologize for. Because seriously she didn't. But he also didn't want to break her away from her world. The one she felt safe enough to expose only when she was alone. And here she was, exposing it to him. So he was silent. And she was content. And the moment was perfect.

And then they reached the camp.

“What took you guys so long? We've been here for a half an hour waiting for you!” Allison greeted them with a tight hug each. Isaac, Boyd, and Erica were all sitting around the fire pit, a warm fire already burning and calling out for Stiles. He sat down on a log one of the wolves must've pulled up and warmed his sore hands. Digging a hole was not as easy as it looked. The only other time he'd really done anything like it was when he and Scott dug into Laura Hale's grave.

Lydia and Allison joined them soon after, already having a completely different conversation that Stiles didn't want to interrupt. Erica and Boyd were busy cuddling and kissing and just no. No thank you. Stiles did not need another reminder that he was alone.

Isaac and him both just sat there solemnly, staring in the flames, because there was nothing else to do. But then the sky started growing darker and it was time to think about food. Which Stiles was all for. Because food.

For the trip they had all packed according to the meal plan Lydia had made up. Tonight they were having pasta. Specifically spaghetti, which was Stiles's favourite. His mom used to make spaghetti all the time, a special Italian recipe she had inherited from her mother. Stiles wished he knew how to make it but he wasn't exactly a five star chef, so his contribution was setting up the portable camping stove, filling the pot with water from the nearby stream, and stirring the noodles.

By the time the sauce was applied and the evening air was filled with saucy goodness, the rest of the pack were back, dirty and sweaty, and starving. They all chowed down, sitting around the fire altogether, smiling, laughing, and talking **.** It was nice. It was… family. Safe. And Stiles couldn't wipe the smile off his face, not even when he caught Derek watching him from across the fire pit.


	5. Chapter 5

“Stiles, what do you think you're doing?” Derek's breath was hot on the back of Stiles's neck, sending a shiver all through his body. Damn it. Was Derek just the spawn of Satan sent to torment Stiles? It seemed that way. Though Derek probably thought the same about Stiles, but because of the irritation not the sexual frustration. 

“I'm making a hat.” Stiles answered as he started to unscrew the Jack Daniel's lid. He heard a growl behind him but refused to let Derek intimidate him. Which, okay, he was kind of already on the brink of jumping out of his skin, but still. He raised the bottle to his lips, preparing himself to take a long, long sip, when suddenly it disappeared. Stiles stood there for a moment, his hand still raised like it held the bottle and his lips slightly parted to accept the liquor. And then he realized the bottle was  _actually_ gone.

“You're sixteen, where did you even get this?” Derek walked around Stiles so he could give him a scowl that Stiles could actually see. He lifted the bottle up, took a swig, and without warning threw the bottle against a tree nearby where it shattered to pieces, glass sprinkling the ground and alcohol splashing everywhere. The rest of the pack instantly silenced and they all looked over to see what the commotion was.

“Dude! Come on! That was for everyone!” Stiles sort of whined and threw his hands up dramatically. Because he could. And Derek was slowly taking Jackson's spot for number one douche bag. Derek just raised an eyebrow and waited for Stiles to stop acting like a child. “So not cool man. I thought we were pack bonding here.”

“Getting drunk and acting like a bunch of teenage idiots is bonding? I don't think so.” Derek growled, shaking his head in disappointment. “This isn't a vacation. This also isn't high school. Not out here in the middle of a forest, which is uncharted, unfamiliar territory for our pack right now. We have to be alert, ready to deal with any threat.” He said for the billionth time. Okay it was the first time. But Stiles already knew all of that. He knew Derek wanted to bond and train and whatever, but what about relaxing? What about settling around a camp fire, pleasantly buzzed, forgetting about the fact that ghost stories of their childhood were now their constant, threatening reality?

It was about nine o'clock; they had spent the evening around the camp fire together, watching as the sky grew darker and darker until the only light provided was by the moon and the stars, and the warm, flickering flames. So far nothing exciting had happened. The wolves hadn't sensed anything unusual, and they said the perimeter was clear. Stiles didn't understand why Derek was still so uptight.

Stiles skulked back to the camp fire and settled himself down in between Isaac and Danny. The rest of the group was cuddling with their counterparts; Allison and Scott, Jackson and Lydia, and Boyd and Erica. How romantic. Stiles scoffed and started picking at the grass while everyone remained blissfully ignorant of him and his annoyance.

Suddenly Isaac leaned in close to Stiles so that he could whisper, “Was that all you brought?” And Stiles would've answered him in the affirmative but…

“It doesn't matter. _No one_ is drinking.” Derek interrupted and promptly shoved his ass in between the two of them. He wrapped his arm around Stiles's neck and brought him in nice and close. “You and I need to have a talk.” Derek growled and Stiles groaned internally. Or maybe moaned. Because Derek wasn't playing fair, sitting so close to Stiles the way he was. “Privately.” Derek added, his voice lower. Stiles threw a look over at Lydia who was shaking from obvious laughter.

Without waiting for Stiles to answer Derek stood and began dragging Stiles away from the camp site. “Aren't you afraid of leaving all your puppies alone?” Stiles asked, his voice totally not squeaking or anything. Derek didn't answer. “You've seriously gotta be regretting turning teenagers.” Stiles commented, hoping that would stir something out of Derek, but his quips were to no avail. “I'm sure I'm not the only one who managed to get my hands on alcohol.” He wanted to get his own mind off of the fact that Derek was dragging him away. To be alone.

When they reached a small opening in the trees Derek pushed Stiles into the middle of it and watched him. “You are a part of my pack.” Derek said plainly; a statement of fact. Stiles wasn't sure how he was supposed to respond to that. Of course he was pack. He was here with them wasn't he? “Why aren't you submitting to me?” Wait, what? Submitting?

“Whoa dude. Submitting what?” Stiles's entire body felt cold suddenly, and his heart was beating fast. Derek must've known what was going on in Stiles's head. Derek narrowed his eyes and his jaw locked into place.

“You keep questioning me, going against me,  _disobeying_.” Derek paused, leaned against a tree and crossed his arms. “I understand we didn't exactly start out seeing eye to eye… on a lot of things. But part of the reason you're even in this pack… well, I _think_  you're the type of guy who'll do whatever it takes.” He paused again, looked at Stiles like he was trying to look deeper. Trying to figure him out. “You would've killed me, you would've killed Jackson. I know you would've killed Matt. Scott's soft-hearted. He'd hesitate.”

Stiles bit at his lower lip, not sure if he liked the idea that Derek had come to any conclusions about his personality or any choices that  _could've_ been made along the way to getting to where they were now. “I honestly don't know what you're trying to get at man.”

“If something happens I can't have the pack divided.” Like that explained _anything_. Stiles didn't see how he made any difference to the pack's structure. People barely listened to him anyways, even when he was right (which was most of the time). And it also wasn't like Stiles was attempting to turn everyone against Derek. He'd never admit it but, Derek was actually starting to become a really good Alpha. A little rough around the edges, emotionally scarred and what have you, but not entirely bad. All he really had to learn was how to lead, rather than bully people around.

“So… you think I'm dividing the pack?” That hurt a little.

“No. But I think you could. If you thought it was for the best.” Derek explained and pushed away from the tree. Slowly he approached Stiles, cautiously raising his hands to rest them on Stiles's shoulders. They were eye to eye now. “For this whole thing to work I need each of you to trust that I'm going to do the right thing. Especially you.” Derek's grip was firm, steadying.

“Especially… me?” Stiles managed to choke out without sounding too excited or surprised.

“If you and I can work towards the same goal, without killing each other, the rest of the pack will fall into line.” Derek let his hands drop away and instantly Stiles felt the cold air return. “Scott trusts you, Allison trusts Scott. Lydia has a mind of her own so she'll do whatever she thinks is necessary. Luckily she's smart so I don't have to worry about her being stupid and running off to play  _heroes_  with you three.”

 _Rude_. “I don't know how many times I've told you people, but I'm not a hero.” Stiles sighed, knowing that he was Robin. That's all he'd ever be. The lovable sidekick. “What if you're wrong though? What if what you're doing isn't the best thing for the pack?” Stiles asked and immediately wished that he hadn't.

Derek turned away, walking back towards the camp. “I guess I have my answer then.” Derek growled, and Stiles could tell just by looking at the brooding shoulders and the tense line in Derek's back that he had said the wrong thing. He stumbled after Derek, almost reaching him before his shoelace snagged on an evil branch of doom. The noise that came out of his mouth was not shrill, but exceptionally manly.

He landed roughly in Derek's arms.

“For me to trust you, you need to trust me.” Stiles blurted and Derek froze. They stayed that way for an excruciatingly long awkward moment. “Y'know since it should be a two-way street kinda deal.” Derek made a gruff noise.

“Well I haven't dropped you on your ass yet.” He said flatly before he tilted Stiles back onto his feet. Stiles rolled his eyes and shook his head.

“Not what I meant.” He grumbled and Derek motioned for Stiles to join him by his side. They began walking back towards the camp and Stiles tried extremely hard not to think about being in Derek's arms. Because there were more pressing issues at hand. “I'll make you a deal.” He said quietly and stopped to face Derek. “You work on trying to trust me, and I'll work on trusting you.”

Derek stood there silently for a moment, contemplating and calculating, and then raised his hand for Stiles to shake. “Deal.” He said solemnly. Stiles was about to raise his hand, go about this in the same orthodox way that Derek was used to, but he didn't want this deal on a hand shake. So he slowly began wrapping his arm around Derek in a soft, cautious, awkward as _fuck_ , hug. “Stiles what are you-,” Derek's entire body was tense and Stiles was sure he was about to be ripped in half.

“I said trust me Derek.” And Stiles held on tighter, pulling Derek closer. Gradually he felt Derek relaxing, after a half a minute more of this awkward stance he felt Derek's arms around his shoulders. It was all warmth. Suddenly Derek shifted his face into Stiles's neck, sending Stiles's heart racing uncontrollably in his chest. His dick all but sprang to life in his jeans but Derek either didn't notice, didn't care, or was just ignoring the obvious reaction he was getting for resting his face -  _his lips -_  against one of the most sensitive parts of Stiles.

They stood that way in silence for what seemed like a long time. A  _very fucking long time_. Derek remained as he was, breathing Stiles in, nuzzling his throat with his nose and lips, his eyes closed. Stiles was only sort of freaking out. If this was what trust was to Derek then he was all for it.

It didn't get  _really_  awkward until Stiles felt something hot and wet on his throat. “OhmyGod! What the Hell are you doing?” He tried to pull away but Derek had a werewolf vice grip on him. He even  _growled_  when Stiles's hands pushed against his stomach to try and create distance. Stiles was on the verge of getting hard against Derek and he couldn't risk it. Even though he was sure Derek could already smell the arousal  _oozing_  off of Stiles.

He licked again and Stiles had to physically stop himself from shuddering. “I'm scenting you. So you smell like pack.” Derek murmured, licking at Stiles's Adam's apple. Stiles no longer wanted any part of this. Nope. He struggled against the Alpha's hold on him but he was noodle arms compared to the hulk.

“So,” Stiles's voice cracked, “you doing this to everyone?” Derek's tongue paused mid-lick before continuing again on the other side of his neck.

“No, just you, you're the only one.” Derek breathed, pausing shortly in between each lick to get out the words. Stiles felt the brush of Derek's stubble against his jaw and had to close his eyes to try and focus on everything other than what Derek was doing to him.

“Gre-... great.” Stiles stuttered out, almost breathlessly. Was he holding his breath? Oh my God he had been holding his breath. What was happening? What the fuck was up with this scenting? One minute Derek's telling him that he's out of line and the next he's  _licking his mother fucking neck_? Not cool.

Suddenly Stiles heard a ruffling of bushes to his left and instantly found himself pressing into Derek, worried that something was about to attack while Derek was going to town. The licking had finally stopped but the nuzzling and stubble burning had not.

“Hey Derek, Boyd and I want to try getting a better view of the stars from that hill a few minutes down is that cool?” Erica suddenly emerged from the underbrush, Boyd in tow. Derek didn't even pause or hesitate in continuing his whole scenting Stiles thing.

“Only if you bring Isaac and Danny with you.” Derek said. Okay, so Erica and Boyd definitely knew Stiles had a hard on. They were barely containing themselves, smiling and Erica holding in her evil cackling. Erica just shrugged and nodded, took Boyd's hand, and left them alone once again.

As soon as the others were gone the licking commenced once more and Stiles cursed the heavens for their sick, cruel senses of humour. “Not that I don't love being the Alpha's chew toy, but don't you think we should get back to the others now?” Derek only made a growly sound deep in his throat that Stiles could feel vibrating through his chest.

Abruptly he felt teeth against his throat and he whined. Literally whined. Because it wasn't fair how turned on he was getting from something that meant so little to Derek. “Chew toy. Now there's an idea.” Derek said and bit down slightly on Stiles's skin. Stiles whimpered and felt his knees growing weak.

“No. This is not cool dude. Stop scenting me and let me go.  _Now_.” Stiles ordered, a lot fiercer than he expected himself capable of when being reduced to a puddle. Even more surprisingly, Derek obeyed. After one final lick, in the same spot he had bitten down on, he released Stiles and pulled away, a delighted smirk on his face. “Yeah, real funny asshole.” He paused, unsure what to say because he was standing there, hard, with Derek smirking, looking quite pleased with himself, and Stiles was just... confused. _So confused_.

“I'm sorry about that.” Derek said, the smirk slowly falling. “I have to scent you. You're the only one who…” he trailed off, driving Stiles crazy with anticipation. The only one Derek had feelings for? No, that was too hopeful. Or too crazy. Or whatever. It didn't matter anyways, Stiles sure as hell wasn't going to let it happen again. “All the other humans have werewolf mates, so they smell like pack. You're the only one that hasn't been scented.” Derek explained and licked his lips.

Stiles still wasn't happy with what had just happened. Well he was  _happy_  but he so  _was not happy_. “Thanks. Next time a little warning would be nice. Especially after the conversation we just had.” Stiles grumbled and tried to think about a way to get rid of the Derek induced boner. Walking. Walking would be nice. Some fresh air. Air that didn't smell heavily of the werewolf asshole that was causing all of this.

Derek just smirked before he began walking away. Good. He could leave. Leave Stiles alone. But then he looked over his shoulder and paused, waiting for Stiles to join him.

“Could you just… give me a minute? I'll meet you back at the camp.” Stiles said and turned to start on his merry little walk. Derek grumbled and shook his head.

“Already forgetting we have a buddy system?” He asked, taunting. Stiles pursed his lips and breathed out in an irritated huff. Derek knew. There was no way in hell that he didn't know. And he was  _teasing_  Stiles.

Fucking asshole.

“Yeah, nope! Haven't forgotten. Thank you for the little reminder though.” Stiles bit back and crouched on the ground so he could focus on handling his situation. He remained there for several minutes, slowly relaxing himself little by little. The whole time Derek remained silent but Stiles had to block out the sense that Derek was watching him with an amused smile. Finally when Stiles was ready he stood and walked straight passed the Alpha without saying a word.


	6. Chapter 6

Stiles was the first to arrive back at the camp site. Derek wanted to do a quick check of the perimeter, and who was Stiles to argue with the Alpha? So he entered the small clearing, hoping everyone was already off to star gaze in their cute little couples that made sense and had mutual understandings of when it was okay to scent each other. But Stiles, the black hole that destroyed any kind of luck that touched him, usually didn't get what he hoped for.

“I don't want to talk about it.” Scott didn't even have to say anything before Stiles knew Erica had blabbed. Scott backed off for just a second, hesitating. The gaze he had locked on Stiles said that he wasn't going to drop it though.

“Stiles…” Scott trailed off, unsure of what to say. “Scenting is… it's kind of a natural thing to do.” He looked physically pained to be saying any of this. Stiles scoffed and began unzipping the tent. Altogether they had brought three tents, all fairly sizeable, but the one Stiles had chosen was the smallest of the three. Sleeping arrangements hadn't exactly been planned out but Stiles didn't care. All he wanted to do was curl up and hide inside of his sleeping bag all night. Maybe all weekend. Maybe for the rest of his life.

“You've never scented me before.” Stiles pointed out before diving into the tent and leaving Scott outside in the frigid night air. He pounced on the tent flap to begin closing it but Scott grabbed it and tore it away from him so he could press his way inside.

“Well it's not like I'm fluent in werewolf behaviours. I didn't even know I was doing it to Allison before Isaac told me. It's really important in a pack though, it keeps us all connected. That's why we have to have these group outings. We have to be comfortable with each other. That's why we didn't bring individual tents, we're sharing two of them and-…” Scott tried to explain but Stiles wasn't even listening. He kept thinking about how hot Derek was, how wet his tongue had been against his throat…

When he realized where his mind was going he shook his head to get rid of the thoughts. “Whatever. You're right. It's no big deal. I'm still tired though man, I'm going to bed.” Scott still looked like he wanted to press but luckily for Stiles, Allison had appeared just outside the tent.

“Come on Scott, let Stiles rest. He's not used to the hiking we had to do today.” At first Stiles grinned and thought about how beautiful and gorgeous and wonderful Scott's girlfriend was. Then he realized she had sorta made him feel like crap again.

“Wow. Thank you Allison.” Stiles said drily. It wasn't like he was a toothpick. He wasn't super fragile or weak like everyone seemed to think he was. Sure he was going through random growth spurts and he was uncoordinated with gangly limbs, and he had so much energy that sometimes his mind moved faster than his body, but that didn't make him incapable of exertion.

Scott slowly began to back away, though he  _almost_  looked as if he was going to stay and push against Stiles's resolve a bit more. When the two of them left to go back to their places around the fire, Stiles was finally alone to revel in the fact that he was  _finally alone_.

He rummaged around for a second before realizing his sleeping bag was still with the rest of the pack's stuff on the opposite end of the site. Stiles groaned and thought about just giving up on everything and dying right then and there. His better judgement won out though – who else would take care of his father if Stiles just decided to mosey on into death's embrace – and so he exited the tent.

Derek was back now, sitting silently on his own not far away from the fire. He was watching his pack with this look that Stiles couldn't quite place at first. It seemed warm. The way his eyes were soft and light, his lips quirked in a relaxed smile. And then he looked over at Stiles and that look seemed to disappear all at once.

Stiles rolled his eyes. Whatever. If the sour wolf wanted to hide the fact that he was actually  _content_  – or dare Stiles even say it? –  _happy_ , that was his choice. It was also his choice to basically ignore Stiles as he walked over to the pile of bags and supplies. Good. Ignore Stiles. That's what everyone did. Well. Not the people that had just been on the verge of sucking a mark into Stiles's neck but there's always more room for people in the Stiles-does-not-exist group. A group first started by Lydia of course.

He grabbed his sleeping bag out of the mess and instantly headed back to his tent (yes  _his_  tent, everyone else could find their own place to sleep, there were two other tents after all. Two big ones. They would fit). He knew it was wishful thinking, hope that they would leave him alone all night until he could stop freaking out about Derek scenting him the way that he did, but he prayed his black hole of bad luck would lay off. Just for one night.

 _Please God, I get your sense of humour, I really do. I'm a huge fan of your law of Karma. And on another note, your beautiful work in creating a goddess like Lydia and letting her even be present in my miserable life. But you gotta give me a break here. Make Jackson the butt of your next joke. I swear I'll do_ anything _. Okay? Okay. That is all. You can go back to watching mankind destroy itself. Thank you, Amen._  So maybe it wasn’t exactly a very… appropriate prayer? But the Universe owed him one damn it.

Once he was safe inside of  _his_  tent he opened up his sleeping bag and fell into it eagerly. He curled up inside of the thick, warm fabric, bringing the soft material tighter against himself like a cocoon. When he closed his eyes and focused on the darkness that was pulling at the edges of his mind, he felt himself gradually falling off into a deep sleep.

\---

“What is Stiles doing in my tent?” Derek asked after he decided to join the group sitting around the cozy fire. He watched the flames dance, felt the heat radiating through the cold night air, and stifled a shudder. Images floated through his head, faces burning, the house falling apart as the flames licked through it… He had to suppress it. He had to move on.

The teens all exchanged glances, all looking like they didn't know what to say. Except for Jackson. “Maybe he wanted another scenting session boss.” Jackson's cocky smirk slackened when Derek's scowl melted whatever amusement anyone was experiencing in that moment.

Stiles needed to be scented. That's just how it was. The Alpha inside of Derek needed it to be so. His pack needed to be one, to be  _whole_. They needed to be strong and secure and connected. Scenting was one of the ways they could do that, to let other wolves know what pack they belonged to. And Stiles belonged to his pack. But Stiles didn't really smell like pack. Yet.

Derek admitted he went a little overboard with the licking, and that  _bite_. That wasn't him. Not entirely. Or maybe it was. But he was still divided. His wolf smelled Stiles's arousal, even through the confusion and irritation. It drove his wolf insane. Derek had dealt with that before though, he was used to people's reactions to him. He knew he was appealing, that was part of being a Hale, good genetics. Dark and sharp, and in Derek's case, mysterious. That always got to people.

But he had never had to deal with Stiles like that before. And so close. So very, very close. And easy. Derek replayed that delicious  _sound_  he had gotten to vibrate out of Stiles. It was all Derek could do not to bite down harder, lick at more of Stiles's salty, sweet skin.

“Do you want me to get him out?” Scott asked, breaking Derek out of his reverie. He just shook his head and looked into the fire once more, those images from before skittering through his mind again.

He couldn't have Stiles. He wouldn't. He wouldn't take advantage of a sixteen year old, horny, easily excitable child.  _Child_. It wouldn't be fair. It wouldn't be right.

And then  _her_  face flickered behind his eyes for a moment and he had to get up and leave. He had to leave his pack and get himself under control. Because the Alpha was just underneath the surface, begging to be released. And all because of  _her_.

No. He wouldn't have Stiles. He wouldn't be Kate.

\---

Stiles was practically dead he was so lost in his sleep when Derek got back to his tent. The  _Alpha'_ _s_ tent. The others were already asleep in their tents as well, softly snoring and breathing. The moon was bright in the sky, but already falling to make way for the sun that would be waking them all in a few hours. It was still night time though, and the air was thick with a chill that would've bothered anyone who didn't naturally burn hotter because of the wolf blood coursing through their veins.

Derek watched Stiles for a moment, gazing at the young boy's shadowed face. He really was beautiful. Striking, even. One day he'd grow into a strong man. An intelligent, intellectual, probably still talkative as all fuck, man. One who didn't think with his dick, and would probably figure out that Derek isn't what he truly wants. And Derek was okay with that. Because Derek knew that would only complicate basically everything. And the pack was too young yet to be confused by what kind of dynamic  _that_  might turn it into.

But Stiles was shivering, his sleeping bag's fabric too thin to fight off the cold.

So Derek laid himself down next to Stiles, careful not to rouse him from his deep slumber. He pulled his own sleeping bag completely open and spread it out over the both of them. He stayed silent and still for a moment, hoping that was all Stiles's body needed to stop shaking, but it wasn't. And Derek had to protect his pack. So he laid his arm across Stiles's chest, pulled Stiles as close as he could, and he rested his face against his neck.

Slowly Stiles's body started to relax. Derek let go, little by little, and relaxed alongside the unconscious boy. He fell asleep, breathing in Stiles's sweet, comforting scent.


	7. Chapter 7

_Stiles was running. He was running so hard and fast, it felt like he was flying. And that would've been awesome. If he hadn't been running_ away _._

_The trees flew by in a blur, but he wasn't going fast enough. The monster was catching up. It was going to overcome him and he was going to die._

_For a split second Stiles recognized the absurdity of his predicament, the fact he'd been running for ages, the trees all looked the same, he couldn't quite remember where he was or how he got there, but the moment passed as swiftly as it came. All Stiles needed to worry about was moving forward quicker, distancing himself from the monster hunting him._

_But he was only human. He could only go so fast._

_The presence kept growing closer and closer and with each running step Stiles took the beast seemed to take fifty. It wasn't long before he could feel its breath ghosting his neck, making him shiver uncontrollably. Suddenly his legs stopped working, his body paralyzed._

_“Stiles…” The monster growled and a clawed hand dragged across Stiles's back. Stiles's heart stuttered and he desperately tried to move his limbs, get something working, at least to defend himself somehow. “It's your fault… All your fault…” The claws dug into his skin. “You killed her didn't you… You killed-,” Its voice was harsh but cut off abruptly. He was released from what hold it had over him, so he jumped away and frantically looked for the monster._

_But it was gone._

_Stiles exhaled heavily and his heart began to relax. He was still shivering, still unnerved. But that slowly receded too, and the trees around him didn't seem so dark. His chest felt a little heavy, and something kept tickling his neck, but it felt nice. He felt better._

_So the nightmare faded away into oblivion and he actually got some_ rest _for once._

 


	8. Chapter 8

Stiles was overheating and he had absolutely no idea why. He tried to shift in his sleeping bag, free himself of its volcanic wrath. It wasn't fair that his sleeping bag had such a death grip on him. He was Stiles Stilinski, vanquisher of werewolves, conqueror of curly fries. He could open pickle jars with ease, a sleeping bag had nothing on him. His hand flew out and slapped something, eliciting a low growl. Suddenly Stiles was wide awake.

His eyelids shot open to reveal the dim sunlight shining through the tent’s light coloured fabric. He struggled to move the sleeping bag away from his face but managed it without completely freaking the fuck out. Was there a snake constricting him getting ready to swallow him whole? Were there tree trunks coming out of the ground ensnaring him for eternity?

Nope. It was just Derek. That was Derek's arm. And… Derek's leg? And where had Stiles's arm gone? Oh holy mother of all the gods Derek was… Was he cuddling Stiles? Really?

Stiles slammed his head back down and almost immediately Derek's face found its way back to Stiles's neck. Which caused Stiles to jump. Because thanks to the werewolf that was presently breathing on all the little nerves going crazy beneath Stiles's skin,  Stiles's neck was under the impression it was about to be licked again. Or bitten. Or just anything. And it was being touched. And that was so fucking good.

God Stiles was so easy. It wasn't his fault though. His neck was his weakness.

He didn't want to disturb the normally angry brooding werewolf, just in case he wasn't a morning person and instead was something more along the lines of if-you-wake-me-up-I'll-kill-you sort of guy. But he also didn't think waking up the entire werewolf population of the camp with the boner that was fast approaching would be a good idea either. So if Stiles really thought about it, one way or another he was about to wake Derek up.

“Uhh…” His voice was unsteady, still clogged with sleep. He cleared his throat and tried to inch away from Derek but the man seriously had a vice grip on him. “Derek, dude… could you please wake up and realize what you're doing to me right now? Please?”  _Before_  Stiles pops some wood and makes everything awkward as hell. Maybe he could pass it off as a little morning wood.

Yeah probably not.

“Stiles…” Derek breathed against Stiles's neck causing him to shudder. He nuzzled deeper into the crook, his lips grazing Stiles's collar bone. So not helping. The exact opposite of helping. Even in his sleep Derek was a complete asshole. Fuck. “Go back t'sleep.” Derek sounded soft. Asshole wasn't playing fair.

For a moment Stiles pouted. But then he realized that this was literally probably the only time this would ever happen for him. With Derek. So he sucked it up. And he tried to ignore the nerves in his neck that were on fire. And he thought about everything else to keep himself from overheating. And getting over excited.

And somehow he managed to slip back to sleep.

\---

“Should we wake them?”

“No. Absolutely not. Do you have a death wish?”

“But it's almost noon. I thought we were supposed to be bonding and training and shit. Besides, I’m starving.”

“Oh there's definitely some bonding going on in there.”

“Shut up Jackson.”

“Okay, so what are you all complaining about? Derek's asleep, that means less work for us and more time for actually enjoying this trip.”

“I don't know Lyds, I don't think Derek would like us leaving while he's asleep. Without his permission.”

“When have you ever cared about what Derek wants Jackson?”

“Wow. I love watching pups bicker.”

“It's like they don't even realize  _he's already awake_.” That was Isaac, very perceptive, good at paying attention to his surroundings. Fast learner.

Derek had been awake for ten minutes ever since he heard Scott trip over a log outside and almost fall into the fire pit. Some wolves just didn't inherit full coordination, at least not until they were more matured and in control. And well, Scott was Scott. He still needed a little work. Which is why they were all out here in the first place.

He didn't want to move. Even if he had resolved to keep away from Stiles. He was… comfortable. And it was nice.

But he had more to worry about than the human tangled in his arms and legs. He took one last breath in of Stiles's new scent and silently praised himself. At least something had come out of spending the night so close to Stiles. He was finally beginning to smell like pack. Like wolf. And he felt a little like it too, like his skin was absorbing everything Derek wanted to give him.

He let out a small sigh before finally slipping his arm away from Stiles who still slept soundly. Teenage boys and their ability to snooze until noon was astonishing, but Derek understood. Stiles was still growing, he was literally Derek's height now, and soon he'd probably be taller. Maybe with a little work, even broader. His build had the potential for it.

What Derek was surprised about was the fact that he had actually slept. And he didn't even have his usual dose of horror and remorse that came with the nightmares that plagued his slumber. He didn't have time to question the unusually peaceful sleep though, he had work to do.

Once he slipped out of the tent he turned to the now completely silent teens who were all watching him with a wide variety of expressions. Mostly they all looked cautious. “So, you guys want to have some fun?” Derek asked and was met with confusion and skeptical eyebrows. He smiled drily. “Split into two groups.” He ordered and slowly they complied. Jackson, Lydia, Isaac, and Danny formed one group, and the other four the second. “Good. Now group one,” he motioned towards Jackson's group, “you're in charge of tracking and killing our dinner for tonight.”

“Eugh! Derek that's gross! We're actually going to eat wild animals?” Erica scrunched her nose, just like the others. Derek's wolf growled and put her in her place.

“No. I was hoping you'd be able to track down the very illusive cheeseburger and fry combo seen roaming this forest.” Derek growled and it physically pained him not to roll his eyes at her.

“But we packed food to last us the entire weekend Derek,” Danny motioned towards the tree that held the food secured up high hanging from its branches.

“I would look again.” Derek stated simply and watched as the group all looked over to where the bags were  _supposed_  to be fastened. They were gone. Scattered throughout the forest being feasted upon by the forest critters.

“ _What the Hell_?” Scott whined and hopelessly began scanning all of the trees, in case he had forgotten where they had hung the food. They all looked at Derek and waited for an explanation.

Derek waited too. For group one to do its fucking job already. “Well?” He asked impatiently, glaring each one of them down in turn. They had to learn. Reluctantly the four of them began towards the trees, exchanging worried glances that Derek knew meant they had no idea what they were doing. “Trust your senses, track your prey, be swift and silent. Patience is a virtue, you have to let the prey lead you to it.” Derek explained, but the faces didn't change. Except for Lydia, who was her confident self.

Yeah, she was maybe one of the strongest links in the pack. Derek respected her. Even more so when she gave the others a hard look, flipped her hair over her shoulder, and with her chin up high dutifully started into the trees and led the others away with her.

That left Scott, Allison, Boyd, and Erica.

“You lucky four get to sniff out some berries and anything else you can find that'll help balance out whatever the others bring back.” Hopefully they wouldn't bring back anything poisonous. Chances are they would. Knowing they had Scott in the group…

Yeah they were definitely going to bring back some poisonous shit.

They scurried off without a word, leaving Derek alone with a warm, sleeping Stiles beckoning him back to the tent. He fought against it for a while, trying to focus on listening for any signals from his pack that they ran into trouble. But after half an hour, with Stiles's still even breathing and no other sounds to drown Stiles out of Derek's mind, he gave in and rejoined the human under the sleeping bag.

He watched him for a while; studied the curve of Stiles's nose, the archer's bow of his light pink lips, counted what small birth marks he could see on his face, wondered how many more were hidden under all that clothing, and how they would taste under Derek's lips.

He sighed and rolled over onto his back.

The sound must've roused Stiles, pulled him back to the surface of consciousness. He awoke slowly, grumbled a bit. He licked his lips and sighed, blinked open his bleary brown eyes. And he squealed when he realized Derek was watching him.

“What the hell dude?” He croaked and sat up hastily, shuffling away from Derek. Derek gazed at him steadily.

“You're in my tent.” He said plainly, never breaking his stare.

“Oh my God man! Seriously?” Stiles asked incredulously, sounding more exasperated than anything else. “Why didn't you wake me up before then? Instead of  _watching me sleep_. Were you inventing new, thrilling ways to kill me? Wanted to wait until I woke up to do it?” Derek raised an eyebrow.

“You know I wouldn't kill you Stiles.” But Stiles still looked skeptical.

“Sure, sure. You say that now. You just wait until I start ranting about World of Warcraft and monkeys wearing coats and global warming and-,” he was seriously going to keep talking. The kid could go a mile a minute. Derek knew how to shut him up. Knew a very pleasing way to do it.

Instead he just flicked Stiles's perfect nose. And Stiles was… stunned. Into silence. With nothing to say because his mouth was hanging wide open and there was a look of surprise in his eyes, spreading them wide and outlining just how gorgeous they were, even in that silly expression. “My tent. Out. Now.” Derek spoke firmly. If Stiles stayed any longer Derek's resolve would crumble.

And Stiles just clicked his jaw shut tightly. “Fine. But you just lost the best damn cuddle buddy you'll ever find.” Stiles muttered before gathering up his sleeping bag and exiting the tent. Derek just smirked.

 


	9. Chapter 9

“This is all your fault.” Jackson growled as he stood and brushed off his pants. He looked up to see Lydia crossing her arms and giving him a dangerous look that was her trademark don't-fuck-with-me expression.

“How about you try that one again. And this time remember that I'm not the one that always wants to finish first.” She held out one perfectly manicured hand and looked at it with a flawlessly arched brow. Danny and Isaac had to turn away to hide the fact that they were openly laughing at Jackson.

Jackson growled, understanding Lydia's not-so-hidden meaning. “Look, if we had just done this  _my_ way-,” he started but her eyes snapped up to meet his, a fire brewing just underneath the surface. He slammed his mouth shut and the two of them glared a hole into one another.

“Not that this squabbling isn't music to my ears, but you both realize that we're going to have to head back to the pack soon and we literally have nothing to bring with us. Not even a rabbit. Not even like, a mouse.” Danny broke the awkward, heated silence and stepped in between the two of them.

“Danny's right, Derek'll have our heads if we don't bring something back.” Isaac joined, stepping close to Danny to show his support. They needed to think of something fast; they'd been out here for at least an hour now trying to track and catch prey. They were running into a few problems though.

Like the fact that Lydia and Jackson were apparently having their own battle of wills. Both of them had strong personalities, and since Lydia had come out of her genius level shell (which may or may not be ranked the same level as an  _evil-genius_ ) they'd been fighting even more, competing for top-dog in their shaky relationship. Unfortunately that extended to this particular pack activity.

“We need a plan, one that we all agree on.” Danny spoke firmly, giving Lydia and Jackson a pointed look. “So either the two of you need to figure things out, or I'm motioning for a vote to see who leads the group. Majority rules.”

“I'm not the one who decided to run after that deer when we weren't even close enough to take it by surprise. And considering we don't have much on our side in terms of brains or finesse since Jackson's with us, the element of surprise is the only thing that'll put rabbit in our stew tonight. So if we want to eat something other than roots and bark I suggest certain members of this hunting party learn how to practice patience.” Lydia puckered her lips as she flipped her hair over her shoulder. Jackson just watched her, breathing in deeply to try and hold back the anger that was boiling up inside of him, though clearly not doing a very good job.

“Fine, why don't you take the lead on this one Lydia, since you are obviously so god damned smart about  _everything_.” Jackson snapped out and frowned even deeper when Lydia smiled triumphantly at him. 

“Finally something we can agree on.” She walked over to a branch lying on the ground and picked it up gingerly. She began drawing symbols into the dirt, precisely and deftly, with a look of determination and calculation. “Do any of you smell water nearby?” She asked and looked at the three boys who were all trying to decipher her drawings with different levels of confusion on their faces.

“Uhh…” Danny replied, quite intelligently. All three of them sniffed the air, their nostrils flaring dramatically. Lydia coughed to cover up the amused chuckle.

“Yeah, smells like there's one not too far from here.” Isaac answered her, finally turning East in the direction of what was no doubt a source of drinking water for the wildlife in the forest. At least, Lydia hoped it would be.

“Good, let’s head there and I'll explain along the way. But first, what do I smell like?” She asked casually as she started walking away. The boys all exchanged sceptical looks that said “it's-a-trap!” and followed behind her at a distance. “Well? This isn't going to work if you don't answer me.” Danny and Isaac looked at Jackson, waiting for him to speak up.

He made it a point to glare them down. “You smell fine babe.” Jackson answered and suddenly Lydia stopped in her tracks and turned to meet the three of them with her own well-seasoned glare.

“I didn't ask if I smelled  _fine_  I asked what my scent is like. Obviously I haven't showered today and I've been out here in the heat, without perfume, without moisturiser or soap. So. What. Do. I. Smell. Like?” Lydia asked, her last few words broken and direct and downright  _scary_.

Jackson's jaw tensed and he put up a courageous front, but Danny and Isaac could smell the fear rolling off the guy. They exchanged a smirk behind his back. “Okay you smell like dirt and sweat and general uncleanliness are you happy?” He growled in irritation. Lydia raised an eyebrow, tilting her head.

“Good. Now we can get to some hunting.” She turned on her heels again and set off. Jackson stood there, shaking his head in confusion and frustration. Danny bumped his shoulder going by, making sure Jackson could see his grin.

“And you wonder why I don't go for girls. Bitches be crazy.” He patted Jackson's shoulder consolingly and followed after the ever two-steps ahead Ms. Martin. Jackson sighed loudly, digging his feet into the dirt a bit to release some of his pent up frustration towards this new Lydia. She'd always been this way, sort of, but never like this. Never so determinedly with Jackson. The reason their relationship had worked at all in the first place was because she knew he needed to take charge sometimes, he liked having control.

But now that he really thought about it, he never actually  _did_  have that, even.

She was manipulative, played the game even though she made it seem like she was just on the sidelines. And Jackson had always known she was ambitious and political, and she helped him get what he wanted a lot of the time. She was that extra push, the little nudge that maybe he didn't want to admit that he needed. And he still didn't want to admit it. But here she was, no longer pushing him. She was pushing herself. So where did that leave him? Where did it leave  _them_?

He let out a sigh and started walking after them, hoping later there would be time for he and Lydia to talk. Sort things out for real instead of pushing it aside with sex. Although, the sex was great too. But they weren't kids any more, not really, not with all that's happened over the past year. He was ready to talk it out. Serious about being serious.

When they got to the small pond (thank god it was that and not just a puddle of rain water because that would've been no help at all) Lydia turned to them with a confident smile on her lips. “Did you guys ever watch Bambi when you were little?”

\---

“Scott what did you just put in your mouth?” Allison grabbed Scott's arm roughly and stopped him mid-chew.

“Uh… I think they're blueberries?” He said and looked down at the handful of seemingly harmless, purplish berries he had collected and planned on consuming. Because he was  _starving_  and it had already been close to an hour of foraging with next to no luck on finding  _anything_. It was hopeless. This forest was barren. All of the smells mixed together and made it hard for any of the wolves to focus on catching a scent.

Their failure had nothing to do with the fact they'd basically just been lolling around, Erica with Boyd linking arms, Scott with Allison holding hands and goofing around. It reminded him a lot of Allison's birthday the year before, when they skipped out and had a day just to themselves. It was nice. This was nice.

Y'know, if they hadn't been  _starving_. They didn't even have  _breakfast_. This was  _torture_.

“Oh my God Scott!” Allison picked up one of them and sniffed it, mashed it between her fingers where it left a trail of purple stain. “How many did you eat?” She sounded panicked and her heartbeat was racing. That was not good.

“Uhm. Like, a few handfuls.” Scott answered, but Allison gave him a steady, worried look. “Okay, maybe a few more than just a few. But they're just berries right? And I'm a werewolf! I won't suffer the same consequences as a human would, I have natural resistance.” Just as he finished saying that he started to feel a little strange. Immediately his heart started to race because yeah, he was panicking a little too now.

Erica and Boyd looked back over their shoulders to see what was going on. “Those were pokeberries! They're poisonous! If you have enough of them they can kill you!” Allison grabbed onto his cheek, looking closely at him. “Scott why would you eat so many?  _How_? I only looked away for a second!” Scott's stomach grumbled and his heart was getting worse, pounding faster and faster as each second rolled by.

His wolf was clawing at him and he couldn't fight it off, his heart was beating too fast and not even Allison could help him control it. “You guys have to go! Get away from me!” He roared, pushing himself out of Allison's grasp and falling against a tree. Allison moved towards him, intent on trying to help but Erica was already grabbing her and dragging her away as quickly as possible.

“No! We have to help him!” Allison cried, fighting against Erica's hold on her but to no avail. Erica picked Allison up, slung her over her shoulder, and started running away, Boyd hot on her heels.

“Scott'll be okay, he needs to get the poison out of his system. If he can't control the shift he can't control himself, we need to get you as far away from him as possible.” Boyd tried to calm Allison but she continued to cry and thrash and fight. They could still hear Scott's howls, which were growing more and more pained. “Derek'll hear. He'll help Scott. It's okay Allison, you have to trust us. Scott's going to be okay, I promise.” And maybe it was an empty promise. Maybe Scott was going to die, because of some stupid berries. And really? Wouldn't that just be a sick joke. After everything, to die at the hands of a poisonous, tiny fruit.

But Allison took a deep breath and slowly started to relax in Erica's grip. Because Boyd was right about at least one thing. She had to trust them. She had to trust the pack. She had to trust  _Derek_. And she was the newest, the least adjusted member who had shot Erica in the leg, and almost killed Boyd by filling his entire torso with her arrows. And here they were, a year later, carrying her away to keep her safe.

So she had to trust them. She had to try.

Tears were falling down her cheeks, but she brushed them away and took a deep, calming breath. She nodded, held on tighter to Erica. “Okay,” she said softly and pursed her lips. She would trust them.

A minute later the howling had stopped, and the hunt was on.

\---

“What was that? Did you hear that? Tell me you heard that. That sounded like Scott.” Stiles jumped up from his log and licked at his lips nervously. Derek lazily rolled out of the tent, making sure to give Stiles one of his best scowls yet before turning to look in the direction of the roar that had just shook the leaves on the trees. “Why did you send them out on their own man? You know they're not ready for this kind of stuff!” Stiles was freaking out, but not enough for a panic attack, thankfully.

“Relax. I know they're not ready, but they don't. That's the point. I had to teach them somehow that they need me.” Derek answered just before another howl sounded. Definitely trouble, definitely Scott, definitely Stiles was about to run off into the woods and rescue his best buddy from the evil clutches of whatever had him.

“Y'know it's really sad that you need to be needed so badly. Don't you think being wanted is better?” Stiles tried to focus on Derek, on having a conversation, but he was slowly losing his resolve. He wondered how far he would make it before Derek caught up to him and dragged him back to the camp site.

“Stiles?” Stiles looked over to see that Derek was giving him this seriously intense look. “Shut the hell up.” Stiles zipped his lips and raised his hands innocently. He only barely held back calling his alpha a capital Asshole. They stood there in silence for a moment, Stiles wondering what was going on, Derek rigid and listening intently. Another howl. “Alright you stay here, don't leave or I swear to God.” Derek ordered and began towards the trees.

“What? No way. No way is that happening. Scott's my best friend dude, if something's wrong I'm definitely gonna be the one to make sure he's okay. He's the Robin to my Batman, I've got his back.” Derek let out a threatening growl and turned on Stiles, his eyes glowing red for possibly one of the first times he's ever done in Stiles's presence. Usually Stiles dealt solely with Derek's human side. Not now though, apparently.

“You're staying here or I'm tying you to a tree, upside down, so that all the blood rushes to your head and you pass out. Then, when I get back, there'll be complete silence for once.” Stiles knew Derek wouldn't follow through. He  _probably wouldn't_. Well, he might. He most certainly possibly may be very intimidating and serious and okay, Stiles took a few steps back and sat his ass back down on his log where he was super comfortable. Derek nodded at him as if to say  _that's what I thought_  and then disappeared into the trees altogether.

"So much for the buddy system!" Stiles growled as soon as he was sure Derek was out of ear shot. And this totally was so not fair. Stiles was a part of the pack, he was there for each of the members just as much as Derek was. So why hadn't he been ordered to join one of the hunting parties? Why wasn't he a part of this pack training? It hurt, just a little bit, not to be included. He'd gone through it his whole life, he didn't need it from his pack life too.

He sighed in frustration, crossing his arms angrily over his chest. A second ticked by at a sluggishly slow rate, and then another, and then two more. And it felt like an  _hour_. This was bullshit. He stood and paced, hoping it would calm his nerves. He thought about slaying zombies on COD, creating new tactics for LoL, levelling up his Undead Rogue on WoW… he sat back down and tried to think about his dad and new health-friendly recipes he could try out on him.

And then he thought about Derek and suddenly he was feeling even  _more_  frustrated, but less panicky. He thought about how Derek had held him in his sleep, how his tongue felt against Stiles's throat, how his wife beaters did absolutely nothing to hide all the gorgeous mass of muscles that was just obscenely arousing. Like not even fair.

And now he had a hard on. Just fucking great. Scott might be in serious peril, and here Stiles was, fending off a boner.

But… no one was around… and they probably wouldn't be back for a while if something was really up, right? Stiles slid off the log, in a very majestic manner if he did say so himself (which was a lie of course because he landed on his ass in the dirt, apparently forgetting he had legs because who needed legs when all he wanted to do was touch himself). He grappled with the idea for a few moments, weighing the pros and cons. He didn't get to relieve himself earlier, and with everything that happened with Derek...

Eventually he slipped away from the camp site, just a bit, because he did not need Jackson or any of the others  _smelling_  what Stiles was about to do.


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so, the comment made by Firefly last chapter with the suggestion of Scott's appearance made me laugh. And I just had to. So here's this chapter.

“Is this really necessary?” Jackson grunted, making it no mystery that he was so not  _at all_  happy with this plan. This plan was beyond ridiculous, stepping lightly on the line separating total idiocy and insane genius. The distinction would be made when the plan either fell apart or came together.

Lydia threw the handful of leaves she had gathered into Jackson's face, wiping her hands elegantly as she made a satisfied sound of approval. “We can wash up later, if we don't mask our scent then no animal, let alone a skittish, wary-natured deer, will come even close to within fifty feet of us.” She paused, giving the air around him a small sniff. “It's your own fault for bringing your cologne with you, you're the only one who thought smelling pretty was more important than hunting things.”

“It's not like I knew we were gonna be out here in the middle of the forest trying to blend into the dirt Lydia. How was I supposed to know Derek thinks that being pack means being savages?” Isaac shifted anxiously, trying to hold back the instinct to defend his alpha. Danny gave Isaac a small reassuring pat on the shoulder, which seemed to calm the other wolf.

Lydia gave Jackson a hard, long look before turning to the other two. “Okay you guys take point up there on the higher ground, it'll give you a better view, and keep your scent further away. Jackson and I will take up position downwind. No one makes a sound, no one makes a move. We're playing the waiting game boys, so I guess we're lucky Stiles decided to sleep in instead contribute to today, which I definitely  _will_  be talking to him about as soon as we get back to camp.” Lydia made a mental note about that. Jackson gave her a sour look.

“Funny, you said no talking and here you are going off on a rant.” Lydia shot him a look that could wither a budding flower.

“Are you sure you guys should be together?” Danny asked, eying them warily. When the glares turned on him he stammered, apologizing. “Sorry, I meant for this. Right now. For this particular plan that involves complete teamwork and silence. Tension seems to be really heated between the two of you lately. Maybe a cool off could do you both some good?” Ever the diplomat, Danny grabbed Jackson before Lydia could – or Isaac, because he was maybe a little afraid of Lydia right now.

“Fine, you babysit him. Takes a load off of my back.” Lydia bit back and before she could turn and walk away with her chin and nose higher than those who were clearly beneath her, a howl tore through the forest, sending a flock of birds nearby into frantic flight and chirping.

“That sounds like Scott, sounds like he's in trouble.” Isaac was up on his toes, about to make a dash for it.

“I don't think so lover-boy. Scott can handle himself. We are not losing this prime spot and time just to go running off to save someone when Derek's probably already on his way. Now settle down and let's get this done.” She stopped him by putting a strong hand on his chest and gluing him to the spot with a deadly look. He gave one final, longing glance in the direction of another howl, but gradually backed down. “That goes for you two as well.” Lydia said over her shoulder, knowing the other two were still well within earshot.

“Whatever you say your majesty!” Jackson called back, making Lydia clench her fists tightly.

“What did I say about making noise?” She grumbled impatiently, almost under her breath. There was no answer after that, but she was sure he heard her. She looked over at Isaac, who still had this worried, pained expression on his face, and she rolled her eyes, grabbing him by the arm and dragging him to where they would be for the next hour or so. If they were lucky.

\---

Stiles had found the perfect spot. Completely secluded, surrounded by trees, far enough that it was out of the way. No one would be coming this far out; it was a ten minute or so walk in the opposite direction the pack had supposedly run off in. He was good to go.

He leaned up against a trunk of a nearby tree and breathed for a minute. It was quiet here, peaceful. Nothing like being at a camp site with more than half a dozen werewolves who knew nothing about personal space.

He pushed all thoughts of the pack out of his mind, focusing on one member specifically as he started to rub himself out. His body was going through the motions, hardening with each stroke. He took his time, gradually building, allowing the pleasure to ignite itself rather than chasing it down. He closed his eyes, thought of the way Derek's muscles tightened and flexed under his shirt, the way Derek's arms felt around him. His tongue on his neck.

He kept at it, running through the Derek's body appreciation highlights in his head. He didn't know how long it had been since Derek had abandoned him at the camp, alone, but just as he was inching closer to reaching sweet release he heard a rustling from somewhere beside him and he froze.

He cursed internally, knowing that he should've been more aware, maybe went a little further from camp. He did not have the time or money to spend on a therapist for him and whoever decided to track him down. And hadn't they  _smelled_ what he was doing? Wouldn't they keep away out of a little respect and decency?

Unless it was Lydia or Allison stumbling off on their own for some reason… or a serial killing werewolf who  _liked_  the smell of arousal…

He was so fucked.

“Stiles-,” The harsh growl cut off into something twisted, almost pained. The voice grated against Stiles, threatened to send him over the edge. The voice was familiar, even in its twisted tone, and he was basically right about it being a serial killing werewolf whack job. He jerked his wrist once more even though a small part of his brain was telling him to  _cease and desist_. Because he wasn't alone anymore. But  _holy fuck_  if he could hear his voice just one more time like that. Please and thank you, God bless.

Suddenly there was a hand over his own, stilling him. He let out a whimper of disappointment, the edge slowly receding from him. He looked up to see Derek standing there, looking at Stiles with this animalistic glare that shook Stiles to his core. And he should be embarrassed. Pre-cum sticking to his hand, Derek's hand heavily resting on top of his. And Derek just looking at him.

But he was so unbelievably hard, and Derek was  _right there_. Stiles bit his lower lip, watching as Derek's expression seemed to grow intense and hungry and… Derek's eyes slowly trailed down Stiles's body to where his hand overlapped Stiles's. He swallowed hard, his Adam's apple bobbing with the stress of it. And he looked back up at Stiles, his pupils blown wide, his Alpha red hue shining dimly beneath the surface.

And Stiles totally wasn't turned on by that. Not at all.

His hips jerked, creating friction against Stiles's dick and his palm and it was almost like Derek was jacking him off because he still hadn't moved his hand away. For a moment Stiles panicked, knowing that the possibility of Derek ripping Stiles apart was very likely. And Derek's grip on him was get tighter, which was a good indication Stiles was about to be castrated.

No more Stiles Jr.'s running around then. Maybe it was for the best, seeing as Stiles obviously had  _no survival instincts whatsoever_  and that was not a good trait to pass on to offspring.

He closed his eyes, braced himself for the pain.

He felt Derek's hand tugging slightly, slowly. He shivered when suddenly his hand was removed and there was still a hand jerking him off. He opened his eyes, gaping at Derek who was literally looking down and  _watching_  himself work Stiles. It was already too much. Whatever surprise and embarrassment Stiles had been feeling melted away instantly with a loud, dirty moan from his lips.

His hips bucked, pushing him hard through Derek's strong grip. A low rumble sounded in Derek's chest as he took a step closer and buried his nose into Stiles's neck precisely over the drumming pulse point. Stiles tried to breathe, but that was hard to do when all that came out of him were broken whimpers and moans of pure pleasure.

Derek's hand twisted, his fingers gently tugging and teasing Stiles's slit. Stiles was going to come hard, he could feel his nerves slowly beginning to go off in all the right places, building for maybe one of the best orgasms Stiles has ever had. It crashed into him when he felt Derek's lips against his neck, kissing and nibbling and tingling. Stiles whined, grabbed at Derek's shoulders to keep himself upright because his legs were completely totalled. “ _Stiles_.” Derek rasped out. And that's it. That's literally all it took for Stiles to come undone.

Cum poured out of him, hot all over Derek's hand and the forest floor. A strangled moan escaped as an intense wave of his orgasm surged through him. Derek stroked him through it, still kissing and sucking at his neck, a low rumble of a growl ever present.

“ _Mmm_.” Derek hummed, pulling Stiles closer as he nuzzled into his neck. “ _Mine_.” And Stiles's heart spluttered and quite possibly he was technically dead until it started back up again ten seconds later.

He heard a whimper off to the side and instantly was hyper aware of the fact that they were no longer alone. And Derek had just given him a  _hand job_. And he was still coming down from his post-orgasmic high but he could still recognize the fact that this wasn't exactly the best way to be seen by whatever third party had decided to drop by.

The fact that it was Scott made it all the more a very bad thing. The fact that it was Scott and he was wolfed out and looking at Stiles like he was a _meal_  was a  _very, very, incredibly bad thing that should not be happening so why is it happening_ _?!_

Scott took a curious step closer, glowing amber eyes locked on Stiles. “Whoa dude, why you all wolfed out?” Stiles asked nervously but a low growl from Derek shut him up without protest.

“ _Mine_.” Derek said again, pushing into Stiles roughly as he glared the other werewolf down. Scott let out a low whine, still staring at Stiles like he was covered in chocolate syrup just begging to be eaten. Which he was not. He was very much not a human sundae and he didn't approve of his best friend contemplating cannibalism. Although… was it classified as cannibalism if he was in his wolf form?

Okay, not the point, focus Stiles.

Suddenly Derek turned into Stiles's neck and he felt blunt teeth dig into his skin. Stiles tried to hold in the pained sob but Derek was biting down so hard he was almost breaking skin. It didn't last very long, thankfully, and Derek's teeth were replaced by his tongue in a matter of seconds, but his neck was still raw and Stiles had no idea what the fuck was going on.

Scott, however, did start to back away finally, his eyes downcast in submission to his alpha. “Not that I'm complaining here,” Stiles strangled out, “but what the hell is going on?” Derek remained attached though, licking at the bite, his tongue slowly trailing along Stiles's jawline at times, sending shivers crawling through his skin. “Derek.” Stiles whined, half-heartedly pushing at Derek's chest.

“I told you to stay at the camp.” Derek growled, finally leaning away from Stiles's neck and giving him an accusatory glare. Stiles scoffed his irritation, his mouth falling open in disbelief.

“Seriously dude? Are we not gonna talk about the fact that you just jacked me off in front of my wolfed out best friend and then proceeded to mark me,  _fucking bite me- ohmygod am I going to turn into a werewolf?_ \- and you… you called me  _yours_!” Stiles was only sort of freaking out. And by that really he was  _freaking the holy fuck out_. And Derek was just  _walking away_.

Who even  _does_ that?

After he cleaned himself off a bit with some leaves (which he is not particularly proud of to be honest, but oh well, you gotta work with what you have) and tucked himself neatly away, he chased after Derek, fumbling over his own feet several times, but managed to stay upright until he ploughed right into Derek's back. Derek let out a low growl, turning to steady Stiles. “You disobeyed me.” His eyes shone a deep crimson red for a moment before he took a breath and calmed himself.

Stiles laughed. Because what the fuck. “Hey if that's what disobeying gets me I should do it more often.” He smirked at the brooding, not-fun-at-all alpha, even winking because what are survival instincts anyways?

“Stiles.” Derek growled, shaking his head. “If you had been at camp none of this would have happened.” He gave the teen a calculating look, one that seared through Stiles and made him want to turn invisible.

“Like I said. I'm glad I wasn't in camp then.” Stiles said, his voice level and smooth, surprisingly.

Derek just gave him an odd look, something that almost seemed pained. It was silent for a few very awkward moments. “Look, Stiles. That can't happen again. I was… I had to get Scott to back down. He changed for some reason, he doesn't have control. The scent you were giving off…” Derek paused, cleared his throat and looked away. “Any out of control werewolf within a one hundred foot radius would've been attracted to it.” He stopped again, his voice seeming to strain. “He would've killed you Stiles. So what just happened  _had_  to happen and I don't want it to  _have_  to happen again.” And then he started walking away again.

But Stiles didn't chase after him. He waited a few moments, letting the distance between them build and build. Because Derek didn't want him.

And that was sort of heart-breaking.

\---

“We should be safe here for now. I can't smell him. I think we lost him.” Erica finally set Allison down. Allison let her hands slide away from Erica's shoulders and she looked out through the small cavern opening.

“Where do you think he went?” She asked unsteadily, worried what her boyfriend might get himself into.

“Something must've pulled him away. If he's out of control he's relying on his senses only, pure instinct. Usually that means he seeks out something familiar.” Boyd said solemnly. He looked equally as worried, his eyes scanning the forest beyond.

Erica frowned, biting the inside of her cheek. “What's more familiar than Allison?” She asked, and for a long moment they all silently contemplated it. And then Allison's eyebrows shot up and the look of exaggerated horror on her face might've been comical if the situation wasn't as serious as it was.

“Stiles!” She hissed and almost darted out into the forest, but Boyd barred her way. “He doesn't know! He could be in danger!”

“He's with Derek.” Boyd stated firmly, trying to reassure all of them. “Derek'll keep him safe.”

Erica scoffed out a laugh and the two of them turned to look at her in confusion. She smiled slyly and shrugged her shoulders. “Whether it's the safety of our alpha's tent, or his pants, he'll keep our beloved motor mouth safe.” She rested a reassuring hand on Allison's shoulder and gave her comforting look. “And he won't hurt Scott. No matter what. He's pack.”

“And so are you.” Boyd added, positioning himself between Allison and the exit to make it clear that she wouldn't be going out there.

Allison pursed her lips. “And so is Stiles.” She said firmly. Boyd and Erica exchanged a glance. For a long time they were quiet, weighing their options.

Slowly Boyd finally nodded, taking a step aside to clear the way. Before Allison could take one step though, Erica had linked their arms together tightly. And they took that step together.

So maybe she was going out there. But she wasn't doing it alone.


	11. Chapter 11

What was he doing? What did he  _do_? One minute he was running towards Stiles's scent and the next he was jerking the kid off, revelling in the dirty moans that tumbled from Stiles's perfect mouth.  _God_. It had happened so fast, without warning, the wolf took over. He couldn’t stop it. It wasn't his fault. It was instinct.

But Stiles wouldn't drop it and Derek could barely hear anything over the strong, elevated heartbeat of the panicking teen that was trailing behind him. It didn't help that Stiles was still ranting away about how Derek should  _share his feelings_ and  _include other people in his plans_. Scott was still out there somewhere, shifted and out of control, and Derek needed all of his senses to track him down. So when scent and sound were being overpowered entirely by Stiles, Derek realized he had to do something.

As soon as they reached the pack's camp site Derek turned to Stiles, his eyes glowing red. “You need to stay here Stiles.” He was trying to intimidate Stiles, but all the low growl and frown did was make the younger boy laugh. And maybe the scent of arousal thickened in the air but Derek had to focus.

“Do you honestly think that'll work on me? After all this time Derek? Really?” Stiles crossed his arms and leaned up against a nearby tree. He watched Derek grumble with bright and amused eyes. Derek tried hard to ignore the depth behind those eyes, the nervous titter in his own pulse when he fell into Stiles's intense gaze. “Poor little sour alpha's lost his mo-jo.” With a snarl Derek lunged, grabbing Stiles's hoodie to push him roughly against the tree.

Stiles made a surprised wheeze but his heart was steady, his scent void of fear. Only after his eyes trailed down to Derek's lips did Stiles's heart jump, and suddenly Derek wasn't sure whose pulse was faster. His grip on Stiles's hoodie tightened as he tried to physically hold himself back from closing the distance between them. He fought the urge to reach his hand up to move Stiles's hood away from his neck, get a better look at the mark he  _knew_  he'd left.

“You're gonna listen to me, you are going to stay here. And not move.” Derek tried again, this time in a low whisper, leaning in close enough that his breath was ghosting the skin he so desperately wanted to touch. Stiles swallowed hard, licking his lips and left his mouth half-hanging open. Derek let out a low rumble as he tore his eyes away from the obscenely tempting gesture.

Suddenly Derek felt a pair of hands hovering over his hips, unsure and unsteady. His entire body froze, his heart hammering in his chest and drowning out every other sensation as the blood pumping through his veins turned to fire. Stiles didn't say anything, just locked eyes with Derek, a calculating look in his gaze. The air around them seemed to still and grow thicker. It took a moment before Derek realized he'd stopped breathing.

Finally Derek pulled away, the pounding in his veins and chest, the throbbing too tight in his jeans, all too much for him to handle. The Alpha wolf was like a frenzied storm building beneath the surface, driven purely by instinct, and he couldn't trust himself. He couldn't trust his own control. Something that had been built from the day of his birth all crumbling to nothing because of  _Stiles_.

He turned away, shut part of himself off, the part of him too distracted by everything behind him to focus on locating Scott. And Scott was the top priority. Right now he had a responsibility to keep his  _entire_  pack safe. Not just the human buzzing with all sorts of energy behind him.

He cast one final look over his shoulder to give Stiles a pinning look.

Derek couldn't worry about him, not when the rest of the pack was potentially in danger. So, if Stiles chose to leave and get himself killed then that was his choice. His fault. Not Derek's. Derek had other duties.

He tore his glare away before it transformed into something that couldn't be broken. Without another word he started into the trees, no more looking back.

\---

Stiles was fairly certain Derek was insane. And not even the really amazingly genius kind of insane like the Joker or Moriarty… or yeah, Lydia. No. Derek was Jekyll and Hyde. The literal embodiment of Bruce Banner. Two-Face.

Or maybe he was just an asshole, who knows?

It was still no excuse for leaving Stiles out of this. Out of the pack bonding. Out of keeping his  _best friend_  from losing control and going on a homicidal werewolf rampage. It wasn't even Stiles's  _right_  to go after Scott, it was his  _privilege_. He'd fought by Scott's side since they were five years old, slaying imaginary dragons and catching fictional criminals. Just because everything was real now didn't mean Derek could push him around to keep him  _safe_  or  _out of the way_  or whatever the hell he thought he was doing.

Stiles was done with sitting on the sidelines. He wasn't a bench warmer any more. He was working his way to becoming a total badass, and he didn't need any supernatural powers to prove it or make it happen. He was Bruce Wayne. Tony Stark. Okay, maybe not really, but he was quick on his feet okay? He had a brain, although it was a little scattered and random at times it was still pretty damn functional ( _except for when Derek was giving him the world's greatest hand job but that was irrelevant at the moment_ ).

He was going to find Scott and figure out how to get things under control. And then he was going to give Derek a piece of his mind.

\---

“Something big and fast is headed our way.” Boyd stopped suddenly in his tracks and turned his head to the side to listen more intently. A few seconds passed in total silence as the two werewolves with super hearing listened to something much further off. Allison stood at attention, her crossbow already out and loaded with a bolt.

“We have to get closer,” Erica said quietly, barely loud enough for Allison to hear. They both looked at her and she nodded once, giving the all-clear. They stalked as silently as they could forward, towards whatever was approaching.

As they reached a small break in the trees the three of them stiffly came to a halt. Boyd looked over his shoulder at Allison, who was trying to determine whether or not it was safe to continue forward into less cover. She breathed out softly, shaking her head and directing her gaze over to the last few trees before the clearing. She slid behind one, pushing her back up against it and raising her crossbow in anticipation. Boyd and Erica followed her example, both wolfing out as they took up positions.

They stood there like that for what seemed like an hour, all of them listening hard for any signs that whatever it was out there was either friend or foe. Boyd and Erica never untensed, so it was safe for Allison to assume that whatever it was, was still making its way towards them. She kept calm though, tightening her grip on her weapon, only unclenching when the sweat and strain got to be too much.

Finally Allison began to hear the approach as well, and almost immediately the sound of rustling leaves and cracking twigs grew so close that the hairs on the back of her neck were beginning to stand on end. There was a low growl, one that she knew belonged to Scott, and her heart tightened in her chest. She didn’t want to hurt him. She wanted to take his face in her hands and help him find his way back. Look into those glowing amber eyes and watch them melt away into deep brown. But before she could even have an internal struggle about it, there was suddenly an ear-splitting howl abruptly cut off by the sound of a snarl. She frowned, looking at the other two to see if they had an explanation.

Boyd's lips pulled back, his sharp teeth snapping as he ducked out of the cover of the tree to join in whatever was going on. There were yelps and whines, growls and snorts, and it sounded like an all-out brawl. Erica was the next to join, her battle cry shaking the forest around them.

Allison took a deep breath as she mentally prepared herself for whatever was about to happen. She rested her finger on the trigger, took a deep breath, and threw herself into the fray.


	12. Chapter 12

This was all Derek's fault. If he hadn't been all, _Stiles stay here or else_ , Stiles would totally not have decided to trudge out into the middle of nowhere, completely alone. He didn't know what it was about being _ordered_ to do things, but the more someone condescended to him the more he wanted to rebel. Maybe it was because he'd grown up with his father on the police force, a constant extra dosage of authority, or maybe Stiles's curiosity won out over common sense.

No matter the cause, the result was him being completely lost.

It had been almost half an hour since Derek left him at the camp, and according to Stiles's watch it was seriously time for some chow. He chewed at his lips without realizing it as he continued to trek through the forest undergrowth. He paused when he heard the faint sound of running water. He almost died of happiness.

Water meant _life_. And life meant _sustenance_. Sustenance meant he wasn't going to _die_.

His pace steadily picked up as the sounds of the water directed him towards his goal. As soon as he saw the reflection of sunlight glistening off the small stream of water his arms were thrown up into a victorious, silent gesture. It may have only been a stream, but at least it was something.

He crouched down beside it, deciding it was alright to rest for _just a moment_. He cupped his hands into the cool water and splashed it over his face, trying to rid himself of the sweat that had accumulated. He had already tied his sweater around his waist, douchebag-extraordinaire style, to fend off the warmth of the heavy fabric. The only downside to it was that his neck was completely exposed now, and the sweat and direct sunlight beating down on it caused the sore bite mark to throb.

It honestly felt like it had its own pulse, like some alien life form had taken up residence in his flesh, which was seriously not an okay thought and Stiles really should've taken his Adderall before leaving the site.

He sighed as he rolled back off his feet to sit in the small patch of grass behind him. There was some solid shade there from a nearby tree, and even that little bit of shelter kept Stiles from feeling like he was going to shrivel up and crack, disintegrate into dust and make a mini-Stiles pile desert.

He sat in the silence, watching the small stream flow endlessly towards some unknown destination. Usually you could follow one of these things to a bigger body of water, or at least he _thought_ he remembered reading that somewhere, he wasn't entirely sure. And he wasn't about to test the theory without taking a small breather.

He knew he could just turn back, stumble his way back to camp. The likelihood that this mess was all sorted out was high. He hadn't heard any more howling or roaring in at least twenty minute's time. But that wasn't really the point.

The point was, Stiles was actually lost. Like he wasn't joking. He was so lost he'd probably stumble upon King Tut's tomb soon.

He didn't want to think about what Derek would do when he got back to see Stiles had disobeyed him again. "I guess Derek was right about one thing," Stiles spoke softly to the blade of grass he held between his fingers, fidgeting with it just to _fidget_. "I really don't trust him." He frowned, reconsidered. "But it's not because I don't trust him. I trust him. He's saved my life more times than I can count on one hand. But he just doesn't trust _me_." He sighed again, fell back until he was lying down and staring at the leaves of the overhanging branches above him. He muttered to himself, "and yet it's still apparently okay for him to have his hands all over my very private, bad-touch places!"

He threw the blade of grass away from himself in frustration. He didn't know why he was verbalizing this, talking to himself usually only happened at night when he was really sleep deprived, or when he was so rattled about something he had to _hear_ himself say it so he could piece something truly puzzling together. Like with some of his dad's case files he'd rifled through from time to time.

He lay there in silence, listening to the birds chirping overhead, the steady flow of water, the soft _mews_ of a kitten, you know, _normal_ forest sounds.

Stiles sat straight up, his head turning so fast in the direction of the kitten cries that he was light-headed for a moment. He stood unsteadily, wobbled until the _vertigo_ feeling dissipated. He strained to hear the sound again, and after waiting a few moments there was another soft whine. His heart fluttered in his chest, the high-pitched sound appealing to something inside of him.

He began towards the sound, his heart picking up a little bit. Part of him wondered what a cat would be doing in the middle of the forest, and if it was even a _cat_ at all. It could be something much more dangerous and sinister, like a _recording_ of some sort to lead victims to their doom, like the empty cradle on the side of the road that some murderers used to lure their victims out of their cars. What this particular doom was, Stiles wasn't completely one hundred percent sure, but it was no doubt _evil_.

Except it was potentially a kitten in danger and if Scott, or really any of the pack (because they were all seriously a bunch of softies when you got to know them – but Stiles would never tell _them_ that), found out he abandoned a poor little kitty in its time of need, Stiles would never be forgiven. Never. Not even if he bought them all cupcakes and they all ate cupcake sandwiches together until they exploded. Not even then.

He'd seen the way they all melted over kitty memes – Derek included. No one could resist the kitten cuteness. _No one_.

So he continued on with some caution towards the direction of the sound, pinpointing its origin when his eyes landed on a fallen tree. The crying got louder and more often as he approached, and even more frantic. When he got close enough he rolled up onto his tip toes, peering over curiously, hoping he wouldn't have to get any closer than he was to see what was on the other side.

He literally almost died. And not because someone jumped out of the trees stabbing him a bunch of times with a knife or something. No. Nothing even remotely close to that.

The adorableness that was before him was just ridiculous.

Stuck between the fallen tree and a bunch of large rocks was a tiny little cougar cub. It was pawing helplessly at the tree, digging its claws into the bark and attempting to climb it. Its ears were folded over and its eyes were open wide in fear. It made Stiles's heart melt; like even if him snuggling its face resulted in his eyes being clawed out, it would totally be worth it. He took a small step forward and it immediately shrank back into a little ball, crying fervently.

“It's okay little guy-… err, girl? Okay, maybe I'll just call you dude, is that cool? Pretty gender-neutral, I think. I call everyone dude.” Stiles started, but the cub's wide eyes and shivering body didn't exactly give Stiles the go-ahead to scoop it up and shower it with kisses just yet. He held out a hand tentatively, into the sight of the cub. Its eyes flickered over to it for a moment, and a low growl rumbled from its small body. “Whoa, whoa, whoa! I'm not gonna hurt you, I just wanna help. You look pretty stuck in there.” He hadn't realized it, but he'd been talking to the cub in what could only be described as his _baby voice_ , cooing and drawing out words dramatically.

Like the cub even knew what the hell he was saying.

It let out a sound, something between a sneeze and a cough, and looked up at him like he was an _idiot_. Which would be rude, except it was a billion times more adorable than anything Stiles had ever seen or heard before in his life, so he didn't take it personally. He took a step closer and hoped the growling didn't start back up again.

It did.

He sighed, letting his hand fall back to his side. “Come on dude, I just wanna help. I promise I'm not gonna hurt you. You're _way_ too cute. And besides that, I'm a lover, not a fighter.” The cub watched him, the growling only lessening the tiniest of bits. Stiles ran his fingers through his hair, dishevelling it, as he thought of a way to free the little cutie. He eyed the fallen tree, calculating his chances of moving it with his noodle arms.

It was worth a shot.

He walked closer, ignoring the threatening (but still cute as hell – like definitely the same level of extreme adorableness of Scott and Isaac's puppy dog faces) growling that seemed never-ending. He wrapped an arm around the trunk of it and planted his feet firmly on the ground. He pulled, using all of the upper body strength that he could muster.

And the tree barely even budged.

Stiles groaned in frustration and let go. For a moment he had the Neanderthal urge to kick it but luckily he calmed himself before any toes could be broken. “Okay, clearly this would be a really good time for me to be a werewolf.” He paused, thought about what he'd just said. “Nah, that would just be cheating, right?” And it would be just like cheating. Like typing in _motherload_ on the Sims to spawn ridiculous amounts of money. After a while the game lost its charm.

You can only WooHoo so many times with all the Sims in town before you ask yourself what the hell you're doing with your life and why aren't you _actually going out and WooHooing in actual reality_? But starving your Sims to death and setting them on fire will never, ever lose its charm (unless Derek's in the room, because then people burning isn't as funny anymore, even if they are just virtual).

Anyways, the cub was still stuck, still growling, and if animals could have expressions this one was definitely looking at him contemptuously.

“Well if you would just let me pick you up, I could just lift you right out of there, no harm done, and put you right back down out of harm's way.” Stiles crossed his arms and looked down at the cub, as if he were scolding a child. Which he sorta was but the little dude probably didn't even understand Stiles.

Except maybe it did because suddenly it was not growling and was instead standing on its hind legs, its front paws resting on the log. It looked up at Stiles, tilted its head sideways, and pawed at him in the air. It let out a small _mew_ and Stiles definitely did not (but he so did) squeaked as a bubble of emotion welled up inside of him.

Without even thinking he reached down and scooped the cub up into his arms and then, as promised, set it right back down at his feet. The cub looked up at him, craning its neck to look into his eyes, and blinked slowly. It continued to stare up at him as he bit his lower lips and fought the urge to pick the fluff ball right back up again. They stood there for a long moment, just looking at each other.

Finally the cub broke the silence with a loud, steady purr as it wrapped its body around Stiles's leg and nuzzled its face into his jeans. As much as Stiles wanted to reach down and run his fingers through the cub's soft fur, a part of his brain had jump started itself again and he sort of realized something.

Usually if there was a cub, mama wasn't far behind.

“Look dude, you're literally the cutest little thing I've ever seen, okay? There's no debating that. But you have to go off and find your mommy, okay? Otherwise mommy's gonna panic and come and find you and then kill me because I touched you.” Stiles didn't even want to think about what would happen if its mother showed up, or if Derek showed up, or if they both showed up. Derek would certainly kill the mom if she tried to attack, and then this little cub would be orphaned.

That was not something Stiles ever wanted to happen.

“If I give you a few seconds of love will you promise to find your mom? Please?” Stiles asked, his voice cracking because yeah he was feeling a little anxious. The cub continued to purr softly, nudging his leg once more. Stiles took that as agreement.

He knelt down and the cub backed away from him for a moment, eyeing him warily. When Stiles reached a hand out though, the little guy immediately pushed its head into it, purring even louder. It smelled his hand and gave it a lick and Stiles was reduced to a very manly puddle.

The cub got closer, lifted itself up onto its hind legs and balanced by placing its front paws on Stiles's knee. It looked up at Stiles expectantly, like there was something he had to do now that they were almost face to face. “I don't know what you want me to do here dude, m'sorry!” He patted its head and let his hand slide down the cub's back. The cub nestled in closer, and from this distance Stiles could see how deep and grey its eyes were.

It mewed softly and leaned up towards his face, sniffing it tentatively before letting its sand papery tongue lick against his chin. In surprise, Stiles jolted away, but when he realized the cub wasn't trying to eat or claw his face off he started smiling like an idiot.

“Seriously though, how does something this cute exist? You should be illegal.” He brought up both his hands and nestled them into the cub's fur. “But I was totally serious about you finding your mom now. Or your dad. Maybe your dad's like my dad, y'know? Can't keep track of you because you wander off on misadventures all the time.” He smiled fondly and the cub bumped its nose into Stiles's chin.

It breathed softly as it stuck its nose close to his neck, right where Derek had left the bite mark. There was a pause in the purring suddenly, and the cub tensed for a moment, but a second later it was humming like an engine again. A lot like Derek's Camaro actually.

Stiles let the cub lick him once more before giving the cub a few final pats and then pulled away. He stood and brushed himself off, trying to look anywhere but at the little dude that was giving Stiles the saddest expression he'd ever seen in his life. A billion times worse than anything Scott had ever done.

“I'm sure one of them is around here somewhere. You can just smell 'em out, right? I bet you have the best sniffer in the entire forest.” Stiles cooed and the cub practically preened. “Cool. So thanks for the kitty snuggles, but I have a pack to find my way back to, and so do you.” He started backing away from the cub and it made a move to follow him, but he held his hands out. “No, no, no. You go _that_ way,” he pointed off in the opposite direction, “or whichever way gets you closer to your _parents_ and further away from _me_.” He stumbled over a branch blindly but managed to stay upright.

The cub didn't even look away from him, keeping that hurt expression in its eyes, and Stiles was such a sap that he couldn't even bring himself to look away. When his back hit into a tree's trunk he finally mustered the strength to turn and walk away.

He trudged through the forest, directionless, but he felt a little better. Maybe even good enough to stop moping.

He ventured further and further down the stream, trying to keep cub-related thoughts out of his mind because we was pretty sure that if he even looked back and saw it following him that would be it. The end. He'd take it home and raise it himself, law and nature be damned. His father would just have to deal, okay? And they'd have to buy a giant sized kitty-litter box, but he'd get over having to scoop out giant sized cougar poop.

He was so deep in thoughts of what he'd name the cub (maybe _sourkitten_ , after Derek. Or _Selina_ , after _Cat Woman_ , _a.k.a. Erica_ ) he barely even noticed when the stream opened up into what appeared to be a small pond. It was only when he accidentally stepped into the muddy water that he even looked around to see that his setting had changed drastically.

The trees had thickened, more numerous and larger than before, and the pond was something he wasn't expecting. The only thing that kept him from totally freaking out was the fact that these trees looked very similar to the ones around the camp site, so that had to mean something, right?

Right…

He was so fucked.

He let out a huff of air and froze when he saw movement from the corner of his eye. Before he could react, something _hard_ crashed into him and sent him plummeting to the ground. He landed on the ground heavily, hitting every sore spot imaginable. He let out a low groan to vocalize his pain before he realized he could seriously be in deep shit right now, so being silent was definitely something that he should be doing.

He reacted as quickly as he could, pushing away from the mass that had fallen next to him. His ass landed in the water as he flailed away. The other figure – which Stiles could now see was _definitely_ humanoid – rose slowly, and turned to face Stiles. Light amber eyes glared back.

“God damn it Stiles! Where the hell did you come from?” Isaac steadily rolled over so he could face Stiles with the most absurd confused look ever. He and the cub could literally be twins when it came to being so cute it hurt.

“Well if you want the long version I could start with when my mom and dad met at the county fair, but if you want the short version-,” he started, but when he saw Lydia marching towards them with her sharp green eyes focused on him, he slammed his mouth shut.

“Stiles? Shouldn't you be off with Derek somewhere?” She sounded a mix between pissed off and pleased with herself, Stiles couldn't tell which of the two came through stronger. She glanced at Isaac who was being incredibly smart and keeping his mouth shut. Stiles was smart too but his mouth had a separate level of intelligence that never really associated itself with Stiles's brain.

“Funny, you'd think so right? 'Cause of the whole scenting thing yesterday.” He lifted himself out of the pond and started to untie his hoodie from his waist. It was almost entirely soaked now.

Lydia crossed her arms. “Usually when two people share a tent it's a little more than just scenting, Stiles.” She glared at him, his eyes turning into green fire.

“Uh… Lydia, that's not entirely true. Scott and I have shared a tent before,” Isaac paused, looked deep in thought for a moment. Lydia laughed out loud.

“Point proven.” She paused and studied Stiles. Her eyes landed on his neck and a slow smile spread across her lips. She didn't make a comment though, thank all the gods. She just turned on her heel with a small scoff and began walking away with her nose held high in the air. “Let's go back and take up position Isaac, we've still got a deer to catch.”

Isaac gave Stiles a pleading gaze, mouthed, _help me_ , but Stiles didn't know what he could do. He was trapped in the Lydia brigade now too, all there was for either of them to do was follow her and try not to incite her wrath upon them.

Knowing Stiles, it wasn't going to be too long before she was ripping out _his_ heart instead of the deer's.

\---

“I'm really, _really_ sorry you guys. I had _no_ idea those poke things were poisonous,” Scott said for the _billionth time_ since they all came together and beat the ever-loving crap out of him, enough to turn him back to his human form. Derek refrained from rolling his eyes. Just barely.

“Poke _berries_ Scott. _Berries_.” Allison shook her head but pulled him in closer, rested her forehead against his cheek. She was smiling and her eyes were closed. She was taking in everything she could about Scott, it was painfully obvious how much she had been worried. How grateful she was that he was okay again.

Derek looked away, unsure of how he felt at the moment. Part of him wanted to run back to the camp site, get there before all the others just to have a few seconds alone with Stiles, smooth things over. The other part of him was fighting against the first feeling, still stubborn and irritated that he couldn't even control himself around the teenage boy. Like _Derek_ was a teenager again.

It made him feel weak. It made him feel out of control. It made him sink back into the space that Kate had dug out of his chest all those years ago. And then he just felt empty.

When they finally made it back to the camp site, and Stiles wasn't there, the latter part of himself won out. He didn't go running off to find Stiles. He didn't dwell on all the dangers a human could stumble into, alone and in an unknown forest. He stalked into his tent, which smelled too much like Stiles, and then decided to sit by the camp fire where the smell of burning wood drowned everything else out.

Stiles would find his way back, or he wouldn't. He had disobeyed Derek, and just like any pack member he needed to learn the consequences of that. So when Scott asked Derek where Stiles was, Derek only grunted, “probably with the others.” And Scott didn't ask any more questions because he heard the stutter in Derek's heart.

A moment later both Scott and Allison had disappeared. And Derek let them go. Because they'd have to learn eventually too. Derek could only be their Alpha if they let him. If they trusted and obeyed him.

So far this camping trip wasn't turning out as Derek had hoped.


	13. Chapter 13

The forest was calm, quiet, and _nice_. It was so peaceful Stiles was beginning to question if this was real life or not. He sat at the top of the hill next to Lydia and Isaac, both seemingly unaffected by the beauty of the nature that surrounded them. Lydia was keeping a close eye on the water below while Isaac closed his eyes and remained silent and motionless.

Stiles opened his mouth to ask them why they looked so forlorn, but Lydia shot him a glare, and because Stiles valued his life, he remained silent. He began shaking his leg, attempting to expel the anxious energy building up inside of him. He stopped that pretty quickly because Lydia was still trying to level him with her eyes.

He let out a small sigh and rested his head against the tree he was leaning up against. They'd been like this, like those guards in front of Buckingham Palace, from the moment they finished explaining to Stiles that they were trying to catch a deer. _A deer_. Stiles imagined looking into the cold, dead eyes of a sweet, innocent deer, and found it easier than he thought it would be.

Either he was seriously lacking sanity or he was just _really fucking hungry._ Or maybe both of those things went hand-in-hand. As long as he didn't start gnawing off his own fingers or something, he was fairly certain his sanity would remain intact.

 _For now_.

Isaac stiffened, sniffing the air. His eyes flickered bright amber for a moment before he turned to Lydia and gave her a quick nod. She held out her hand, wordlessly communicating for him to _stay_. They stood there rigidly in silence for what seemed like _ages_. Stiles could practically feel the beard growing on his face, his hair turning gray as the seconds tolled by.

Suddenly Lydia nodded and Isaac was a blur as he darted through the trees. Stiles scurried to where Lydia was crouched, her eyes intent on whatever had broken their unyielding stillness from before. He peered over the edge and scanned the area, frowning when he didn’t see anything out of place. It wasn't until he spotted the small deer, tentatively poking its nose out from the safety of the trees, did he realize this was what they'd been waiting for.

From the corner of his eye he saw Danny, Isaac, and Jackson approaching through the trees from separate angles. They silently made their way towards the water and the deer, minding that their movements were coordinated and unnoticed by their prey.

Stiles watched with interest, curious to see how the boys would handle not being able to communicate without insulting and snapping at each other. This required complete silence, and the ability to actually _trust_ each other. They had to communicate with their bodies, their faces, and even something a little deeper than that, which could only be called _intuition_. Even Stiles felt it, from atop the hill looking down at the scene, like he was right there beside Isaac or Danny. Hell, even Jackson.

He tensed when the deer's ears rose, felt his own heart clench in his chest, but even as the deer sensed the danger looming over it, it was too late. Jackson swiftly made his move, and the others soon after.

Their prey hadn't even stood a chance.

Watching them in their Beta forms pouncing on the deer was like watching real wolves in the wild. All graceful deadliness. It sent a chill up Stiles's spine.

The deer had one final, fleeting moment of freedom as it thrashed in an attempt to survive. It ended when Jackson's claws tore through its throat in one clean swipe. Stiles finally tore his gaze away as blood thickly poured out of the gash, spoiling the forest floor where it soaked the grass and dirt. He watched as Lydia continued to stare at the spectacle, a dark look in her eyes.

When the commotion ended she stood, brushed herself off, and gave Stiles a wry look when she realized he was frowning at her in consternation. "And that, Stiles, is how it's done." She walked away from him, down the hill to rejoin the pack. Stiles wasn't sure if he should be in awe or seriously rethink his life choices when it came to the people he'd decided to associate himself with.

Danny slung the carcass over his shoulder and nodded at Stiles when he approached the group. "Stilinski, I thought you were with Derek?" Danny's nostrils flared for a moment before a frown washed over his usually light expression. "You smell weird."

Isaac took a step forward, scenting the air. "I thought you were a predator before, sorry I tackled you earlier." He looked like a mix between apologetic and curious.

Jackson laughed harshly, "Stiles _is_ a predator Isaac, or well, he has the potential to be. Years from now he'll be locked up for preying on the only things weaker than him. Children." He leaned on Stiles's shoulder for a second before Stiles flailed a fist towards the ass-hat. “And when it comes to odour, Stiles always smells weird.”

Stiles felt annoyance and anger boiling up inside of him, but he really didn't have the energy to put Jackson in his place. He was too hungry. Too tired. All he wanted to do was head back to the camp and somehow still avoid Derek at all costs. The more he thought about it, the more he realized he was probably going to get his head chewed off when he got back, for leaving against Derek's strict demands.

“Yeah, Jackson's right. It's more of a stench, really.” Stiles finally said as his shoulders slumped and he sighed. After a moment of silence - most of the group clearly stunned by the fact Stiles hadn't quipped back at Jackson - Danny cleared his throat and motioned for Isaac to lead the way back to camp.

They'd gotten what they'd come out into the middle of the forest for, and if the growling stomachs were any indication, all of them were ready to celebrate their achievement with a feast. “Derek's probably waiting for us back at camp.” Isaac hesitated, giving Stiles a cautious glance. Stiles saw it but refused to acknowledge how the entire group seemed to be staring at him.

He didn't even want to know what they were thinking. They probably all believed he and Derek were like… _mates_ , or something equally as ridiculous. Maybe they thought he was an idiot. The look on all their faces seemed to express their feelings about whatever they thought was going on between the Alpha and him.

Mostly just confusion, like they had no idea what was going on. And Stiles could join them there, because he had no clue either.

But he had to figure it out. And he would.

“Hey boys, how about you lead the way?” Lydia smiled, like she was offering them a suggestion, but her tone implied it was an order. Isaac, Danny, and a grumbling Jackson nodded, starting their journey back through the trees to reunite with the rest of the pack. Stiles made a move to follow but Lydia linked her arm through his and jolted him back to her side. “Not you Stiles.” She pulled him in closer and lowered her voice in a threatening way. “You and I have some unfinished business we need to take care of.”

Stiles could literally feel his insides churning. “I thought we already had this conversation? You had an obsessive crush on me for like, seven years, and I blatantly ignored you until I realized you were probably one of the only people in my life that actually cared about me… I couldn't really return those feelings, you found other people to obsess over, and we came to terms with all that so we're awesome friends now.” He smiled, hoping to deflect her. She raised an eyebrow at him.

“Hilarious Stiles. Really. I think you've got that a little mixed up though. As I recall, _you_ were the one drooling after _me_ , right?” She rolled her eyes and started dragging him along with her after the others. “I thought you said there was nothing going on between you and Derek.” It wasn't a question, she wasn't asking him if he'd changed his mind about the whole thing or if there'd been some misunderstanding. It was a statement of fact that he'd lied to her. And the implication that she'd crush his balls if he didn't start telling her the truth, was very, _very_ clear.

He shot a worried look at the backs of the three werewolves walking a short distance ahead of them. “Are you sure this is the best time to discuss…” He trailed off, biting his lower lip when she shot a glare full of daggers at him.

“This is our _Alpha_ , Stiles. There's obviously something going on between you two.” She looked smug, like she had known all along. Which she sort of _had_ , but the _thing_ , whatever it was that was going on with him and Derek, hadn't started until Derek cuddled him. Or at the very least until Derek gave him a hand job in front of Scott. And that only happened today, after she ambushed Stiles yesterday. _So hah_. “Before, when I wasn't sure if it was purely one-sided, a speciality of yours really; _then_ it was a private conversation only to be discussed behind closed doors. But it's out in the open now. It's the whole pack's business. What happens to our Alpha, happens to the pack. And I can't believe I'm saying this, but you, _Stiles_ , _happened_ to this pack.”

There was a short pause while Stiles tried to work all of that out in his head. “I was part of this pack before this weekend Lydia.” He stated, his voice void of any emotion.

She pursed her lips, gave him a dry look. “Barely.” He tried to pull away from her, because that was complete bullshit. He'd been there for the pack, came running when any single one of them was in danger. No questions asked, he'd been loyal. “I've…” Lydia started, her voice trembling for a moment. That's what stopped Stiles from pulling away. He looked at her, saw the retreating unsteadiness behind her eyes. “I've talked to the pack about dynamics, about what makes a pack, _a pack_. A lot has to do with pack behaviours, and in that sense you're pack Stiles. But there's a deeper part of pack that deals with senses. _Scent_ especially.”

Stiles stopped breathing for a second, thought back to how Derek had said Stiles didn't smell like pack. It didn't make any sense to him. Stiles spent ninety percent of his time with the pack. Sure they didn't all mash together in cuddle circles all the time, but they bro-fisted sometimes. And there was that one time Allison kissed him on the cheek after he'd saved her from that rogue werewolf a while back.

“You don't smell like pack. No matter how much they've tried to scent you. You just don't.” Lydia looked curious now, and when she looked curious, it really meant _dangerous_. Stiles reddened, reliving the Derek scenting him experience.

“They've never tried to scent me!” He squeaked out, but it was a super manly squeak. _Super manly_.

“From what Erica told me, Derek had no problems with that yesterday.” She was smug again. Stiles hated when she was smug.

“Yeah, so Derek was rubbing himself all over me because he wanted me to smell more like pack or whatever, but unless I was unconscious before there hasn't been any other instance where anyone else from the pack has tried something like that. _Ever_. I think I'd remember Erica or _Boyd_ , or _any of them_ slobbering all over my neck.” Stiles lifted his hand and tenderly thumbed over the still raw bite mark.

“Pack scenting isn't what Derek was doing. It's also not what that bite was for on your neck. Honestly Stiles, I thought you were more intelligent than most of the world's male population but I guess I was wrong.” Somehow admitting that she wasn't right sounded like it physically pained her. “We've scented you before Stiles, _h_ _ell_ , I'm even doing it right _now_.” She tugged on his arm, shaking her head, still clearly disappointed in him.

Stiles was still stuck on the whole _pack scenting isn't what Derek was doing_. “What was he doing then?” He asked, and she rolled her eyes. She pulled away from him without a word, still shaking her head. “Wait! Lydia! What the hell was he doing?” He called after her but she just scoffed and kept going.

He paused for a moment, trying to puzzle it out for himself. The group kept getting further and further away, his frown deepening as he attempted to make sense of what Lydia just shared with him.

His stomach grumbled and all coherent thoughts crumbled. Food. He needed food. He needed food right now. Standing there trying to _think_ wasn't going to solve anything. Food would. Stuffing his face and ignoring the fact that Derek was a complicated mess that Stiles had somehow grown feelings for.

Yes. Food.

He followed quickly after Lydia and the rest of them, drunk on his quest for filling his belly. He'd worry about everything else later.


	14. Chapter 14

When Stiles finally caught up with the group – which, by the way, took at least five minutes because they _totally left Stiles behind_ , not cool – Stiles realized there were two new members with them.

“Scott?” Stiles began, but choked on his own sudden intake of air. He made a strangled sort of noise when Scott reached out and began patting his back. Stiles was fairly certain he was going to die of sheer humiliation. He looked over at his best friend, expecting to see _something_. Anything to indicate how uncomfortable the whole situation was, with Scott walking in on Derek and him barely an hour or so ago.

Scott just looked worried, and a little relieved. “Dude, we thought you were dead!” He exclaimed, still patting Stiles's back even though he'd stopped heaving and choking on his own breath. Allison rested her hand on Stiles's shoulder, a sympathetic smile on her face.

“Derek didn't know where you were, we got worried you'd wandered off and gotten yourself mauled by a cougar or something.” Allison teased and leaned into him a bit. Stiles smiled and laughed, feeling the weight from before lifting off him a little. Being with these two was _easy_. Like coming home. Much easier than going to Derek's new apartment, or the odd time to Derek's old burnt down house.

“No, no. If I was going to get mauled, it would've been by Scotty over here, the one who apparently can't control himself.” It was like Stiles had a death wish. Maybe Scott didn't want to talk about it. Maybe Scott didn't remember. Stiles had to figure out which one it was.

Scott frowned. “Wait, you saw that?” He seemed legitimate in his ignorance, but Scott was known to be _extremely_ talented at playing clueless. He had years and years of practice.

“Yeah dude, I thought you were gonna eat me.” Stiles said, watching his friend carefully. After years of hanging out with Scott, Stiles had figured out his facial nuances, what reaction meant what hidden emotion. There was nothing hidden. Scott legitimately had no recollection of what happened earlier.

 _Thank all the gods_.

“What stopped me?” Scott asked, finally pulling his hand away from Stiles. They began walking after the others, who again had left Stiles behind. At least Scott and Allison wouldn't do that. And Isaac this time, who was lingering somewhere behind Scott and eyeing them all wearily.

Stiles ran his hand through his hair, no doubt making it even messier than it already was with the sweat from the day and stumbling through the woods alone. “Derek was there, he managed to get you to back off before you ate me for lunch.” That was the truth. Scott didn't need any details.

No one did.

Scott grimaced though, and Stiles felt his heart hitch in his chest. “Stiles… do you and Derek…” Scott trailed off, and that wasn't a good sign. Maybe Stiles had spoken too soon. “Do you like Derek?” Scott finally asked, and maybe that was even worse than bringing up the hand job. Because _feelings_.

“Of course I like Derek, he's an emotionally constipated jerk who enjoys constantly reminding us all of the fact that he's the Alpha. Who wouldn't like a guy like that? He's almost as insecure and conceited as Jackson, and we all know how much I love me some Jackson.” Stiles replied, hoping the layer of sarcasm was thick enough that Scott realized it was _sarcasm_. Ahead of them Jackson raised his hand over his head and flipped them off.

Scott scoffed and rolled his eyes upwards. “You know that's not what I meant Stiles.” Stiles smiled innocently. Isaac rolled his eyes.

“What?” Stiles scoffed and stuttered over his words, “You mean, like _like_? Like am I gonna start writing his name all over my notebooks? _Derek Stilinski_? _Stiles Hale_? That sort of thing?” He licked his lips and watched Scott internally screaming at him.

“I guess?” Scott didn't sound entirely sure whether or not he really wanted to have this conversation. Luckily, Allison was a girl, and therefore exceptionally skilled in the deadly art of talking about feelings without it seeming like they were talking about feelings.

“I think it's cute.” She stated, smiling and biting her lower lip. She looked like she was teasing, which made Stiles blush. She nudged him a little and looked down at her feet as they walked. “I think it's about time you moved on from Lydia.”

Stiles agreed with her on that point, but Derek and him, together, was not cute. It was an overabundance of brood and sass. “Besides,” she said, her voice a little lower than before, “we could do with a little more guy on guy action.” She winked at him before running away to link arms with Lydia.

“Damn right!” Danny called out and the girls began giggling to themselves. Stiles looked over to see Scott internally screaming again.

“Hey dude, you're the one dating her. I'm just saying.” Stiles laughed when Scott gave him a shove to make him shut up. They walked in amiable silence until they rejoined the rest of the group.

Lydia linked her arm through Stiles's after unhooking herself from Allison. “So we're all in agreement.” She started and Stiles almost tripped over his own feet. This didn't sound good. It sounded _extremely not good at all_. Like they'd all been conspiring against him behind his back or something.

Not that he was paranoid or anything.

“If you're shacking up with Derek your level of stupidity has reached a high I thought was impossible, Stilinski.” Jackson said over his shoulder, and wasn't that just a great way to kick off the conversation? Lydia rolled her eyes and gave Jackson a glare to shut him up. After Jackson looked acceptably remorseful, she turned to Stiles next, with a sugary sweet smile.

“Stiles,” she started, patting his arm, “you know how rocky the pack's past has been, but we've come pretty far since trying to kill each other.” She gave him a look that Stiles didn't know how to interpret.

“I agree. It's been, what? A hundred days since our last incident on the job? Congrats everyone. Except for Scotty. Because I'm pretty sure he _would've_ killed me if Derek hadn't been there to… save my ass.” Stiles chuckled to himself at the innuendo.

“You're missing the point.” Lydia groaned and smacked his arm to get him to pay closer attention. “We're together now, all of us, in the pack.” She paused as she considered something. “This is… my family now. _Our family_. And we have to be there for each other. We can't have all that chaos from before returning and splitting us apart. We have to be one unit, moving together, working together.” She ended her little speech and Allison came up beside her, a soft smile of agreement.

Stiles tried to see how any of that had anything to do with Derek and him. “So how does any of that fit it with me _maybe_ liking Derek?” They all raised a sceptical eyebrow at him at the exact same time, like they rehearsed it. Under all those stares he crumbled. And he is not a lesser man for it. “Okay, fine, I like Derek. I have an affection erection for the dude. I want to have his were-babies. Is that what you wanna hear?” Stiles huffed in defeat, raising his hands over his head to show he surrendered. Scott flinched. He, apparently, had not wanted to hear that.

Lydia grinned, shrugging smugly. “We already knew that though.” The rest of the pack nodded in agreement, even _Scott_ , albeit a little less enthusiastically as everyone else. Assholes. The whole lot of them. Allison was the only one who looked at least a little sympathetic.

“You smell like a bitch in heat whenever you see the guy.” Jackson added. It took all of Stiles's willpower to hold himself back from mortally wounding the haughty jerk. Instead, Stiles stuck his tongue out and gave him the stink eye.

That would show him.

“Are your feelings serious enough,” Scott barely managed to get over the word _feelings_ without straining, “that you'd risk it not working out?” He gave Stiles a level look. What was that supposed to mean though? Did they all just think Stiles was incapable of acquiring a boyfriend? Or girlfriend? Or just like, a real, honest, successful relationship? Or were they against him getting with Derek? Which was sort of understandable considering a various number of reasons, but still. Rude.

Derek was damaged; Stiles had a range of examples to provide for proof of that fact. But who wasn't? Really. Everyone had their inner demons to face. They just weren't facing them alone. Jackson had Lydia, Erica had Boyd, Scott had Allison… they all had their issues and yet they had each other. They weren't worried about the what-ifs of it not working out.

And when Derek's limbs had been intertwined with Stiles's, their bodies pressed together, lost in unconsciousness, _t_ _hey had each other_. And it just felt… _right_. Like Derek's arms were made to hold Stiles.

But that sounded _way_ too corny so he wasn't going to say it out loud.

He gave them each a steady look before breaking the silence with a loud, drawn out breath. “I'd first just like to point out that if shit doesn't work out for you guys it'd be just as awkward for the pack to get over.” He didn't really want to think about how weird things would be if any of them had a fight. Would there be sides to take? Would they leave the pack?

No, that was highly unlikely. Even if Allison wasn't dating Scott, some part of Stiles understood that she'd still be a part of the pack in some way. Once you go pack you never go back.

“Derek's the Alpha, Stiles. Like it or not he's our leader now. If you fuck it up with him, _if you hurt him_ , the entire pack'll be affected. So if you're seriously gonna do this, do it. Don't hold back. Don't play any stupid games. You gotta do everything in your power to make sure he knows how you feel. He has to trust you. And you have to trust him.” Danny spoke and the whole group looked over at him. He shrugged and kept walking.

“We all know Derek hasn't had the easiest time with relationships, but you could be good for him.” Isaac added, and again the whole group stared. Isaac was probably the last person Stiles ever thought he'd hear a word of encouragement come out of.

For a long while after that everyone stayed relatively quiet. Stiles wasn't sure if it was in silent agreement of what Isaac and Danny had said, or if they just didn't know what to say about it themselves. Stiles could handle them being speechless though, because he sorta was too.

He never really thought about the bigger picture, what a relationship between him and the Alpha meant to the pack. Derek with _anyone_ (although Stiles seriously didn't like the idea of anyone else being with Derek) could seriously fuck with the pack's already unsteady dynamics.

What if Derek only fell for assholes? Or what if he allowed that other person to change who he was? And sure, they could all do without him being a broody asshole, but what about the smaller things? Like putting pack first. What if whoever Derek ended up with thought Derek didn't have any more time to waste on a bunch of uncoordinated, damaged teens?

Stiles wouldn't ever try to change Derek. That was just _moral law_ in his mind. He'd never tried to change Lydia, not even if it meant she'd actually give him a chance. Scott was _Scott_. And years, and years of their friendship endured whatever life could throw at them. _Even becoming a Teen Wolf_. Stiles just loved him all the more for it. Even if Scott was sometimes a potato. Sure, Stiles sometimes _pointed things out_ , like Lydia actually being really smart and maybe she should embrace her geekdom rather than supress it on account of popularity or whatever power play she was trying to pull. But it had been up to Lydia to change, Stiles merely provided an alternative option that she could either dismiss or take to heart.

Luckily for the pack, she found it within herself to become the totally badass mastermind behind most of the pack's planning. She and Allison together were a dynamite duo. Without them they'd probably all be dead by now.

Anyways, the only thing Stiles has ever actually made a legitimate effort to change about someone was his father and his eating habits. His dad needed that extra little push though. And Stiles needed his dad to stick around, okay?

So, if Stiles really looked at the situation he was in, and really thought about what it meant that whenever he even thought about Derek, all of his insides turned to mush, then yeah, he could admit there was probably a much better way he could’ve handled everything that had happened since the weekend had begun.

Derek obviously had feelings for him too, what with the marking and the jacking off and the cuddles. It was also blatantly clear to Stiles that Derek wasn't actually going to do anything about those feelings, without an extra little push. And Stiles could totally do that.

He wasn’t about to focus on wedding colours or anything even remotely close to that, but he _was_ going to figure this out. If it was meant to be, then great. Stiles could definitely use a lot more dirty, raunchy, sexy werewolf times.

He could also imagine himself and Derek, laying side by side, their fingers tangled together, foreheads pressing gently. The look in Derek's eyes, when he tells Stiles his darkest secrets. The brushing of lips when Stiles can't bear the distance any longer, and he just has to taste Derek _one more time_. And then _one more time after that_. The whispered words that made Stiles's head spin, made him question how on Earth he'd gotten so god damned lucky.

He'd learn what made Derek _really_ tick. Like what sensitive skin elicited what chuckle and what moan. What words had Derek opening up and letting the walls down to show Stiles what no one else had seen before. What touches made Derek feel safe, made him hold on just a little tighter.

What Stiles had to do to get the brute to _fucking smile already_.

He just had to know. His heart ached to discover every possible thing he could about the boy who brooded so much even people a thousand miles away could feel the angst. Stiles wanted to be the one who was there for Derek, without question. Because Derek _deserved_ someone like that. After spending so much time running from a broken past. And then, to get stuck having to be the Alpha of a misfit group like theirs.

But if the feelings there didn't mean anything more than confused, angry hand jobs in the forest… it was better for them to clear the air, rather than let it linger there to fester and throb until it exploded and fucked everything up.

\---

Derek knew the exact moment Stiles was back within his sense awareness. The first thing that hit him was the scent. Somehow it was off, it felt a little _wrong_ for some reason, but it was still Stiles. Still that cinnamon and peppermint that made Derek's mouth water without permission. He tried to ignore the group as they approached, all of them together. At least none of them had gotten lost.

When they finally reached the camp site Derek remained facing the trees, away from them. He took that extra moment to think about what he could say to Stiles. Should he still be angry at him for leaving? It was Stiles's choice in the end, not Derek's. But Derek _was_ the Alpha. The leader. The one that made the hardest decisions when the rest of the pack couldn't.

He took a deep breath and turned, only to see that Stiles was waiting right behind him, his hands on his hips and his lips slightly parted. The younger boy took a steady step closer, seeming more confident than Derek had ever seen of him outside of conflict. But maybe this was conflict. Maybe Stiles was about to tear into Derek, in front of the pack. As Alpha couldn't have his authority dragged through the mud by a… _human_.

Derek felt his inner wolf getting ready, felt the energy climbing inside of him. His eyes turned crimson red, a warning for Stiles to back off, but the teen kept coming, looking even more determined than before.

The entire pack was watching them, Derek felt their gazes heavy on him. The smell of anxiety was thick in the air, almost so much that he could taste its bitterness on his tongue. A low growl rumbled from deep within him as Stiles continued to get closer.

Suddenly, Stiles reached up, grabbing the loose fabric of Derek's tank, and before Derek could do or say anything, a pair of soft, warm lips were encompassing his own. His entire body tensed for a moment as his brain malfunctioned and his eyes closed tightly. Gradually, he felt himself giving way to the warmth of those lips. He began to respond, slowly at first, while all the thoughts and fear crumbled until only instinct, and the pounding of his heart were all that was left.

His hands wrapped around Stiles's back, pulling the boy's body closer to his. Stiles's tongue experimentally pushing at Derek's lips until Derek opened and let Stiles in. Stiles tasted even better than he smelled. Stiles's grip on Derek tightened, the heat around them thickened, Derek's head was spinning. He wanted nothing more than to let his wolf take over, mark Stiles as _his_.

He was about to do just that when Stiles pulled away. Derek opened his eyes to see how clouded Stiles's eyes were. His pupils were blown wide, making his eyes look almost black. Like two endless pits of desire, focused on Derek.

“I'm sorry for leaving.” Stiles said breathlessly and low. His voice was husky and deep, and it made him seem older than he was. Derek's heart all but stopped in his chest.

Stiles licked his lips as he leaned over so that their foreheads were touching. Derek didn't know what to do. What to say. He ground his teeth together hard, trying to get his mind to focus. He was about to open his mouth and say something, _anything_ , when Stiles gave him one final, sweet peck on the lips.

And then he was gone. Back in with the pack, who had all taken it upon themselves to…

Wait. Was that a… _deer_?

“You-,” Derek started, but he had to clear his throat to get his voice back to normal. “You guys actually caught a deer?” He hadn't even noticed the carcass, too busy wrapped up in Stiles to see that the Betas – _his Betas_ – managed to catch a deer. And kill it. And were in the process of preparing it to be eaten.

He looked at Lydia, who nodded curtly. “It was easy once the boys realized I was worth listening to.” She answered and Derek caught the small exchange of looks between her and Jackson. Trouble in paradise, then. Derek would have to keep a close eye on them. “You're the expert in eating dead animals though, Derek. I don't know a thing about how we can make this thing edible.” There was a hitch in her heart, she was lying. She knew how, but she also saw that Derek needed this.

That's why she was maybe Derek's favourite.

“Alright, let's get started then. I know I'm not the only one starving.” He joined them and got to work, showing them how to skin and clean it, what of it was good to eat and what wasn't. He looked up once, to see Stiles smiling at him. Derek had never been so proud of the pack.

It wasn't until a few minutes later Derek realized he was still smiling like a complete idiot.


	15. Chapter 15

“If I wasn't so hungry, I think this would be morbid.” Stiles said before taking a bite out of his _deer steak_. It was the weirdest thing Stiles had ever eaten, and surprisingly tender.

Although, that could've been because Derek had beaten the shit out of the meat before they cooked it on their portable stove.

Sitting beside him, Derek grunted his reply as he also tore into his serving of deer like the animal (sexy beast) that he was.

“Honestly, it's like an orgasm in my mouth right now.” Erica moaned, leaning on Boyd as she cradled the food in her hands like it was some sort of Godsend. Which it definitely was. Stiles could attest to that.

The only thing that would make it better was if it came with curly fries.

The pack was sitting around the camp fire, laughing and chattering away, celebrating their small victory in overcoming Derek's task. No one really talked about the kiss, but then, why would they? Scott and Allison kissed all the time, Boyd and Erica were inseparable, Jackson and Lydia had really mastered the ability to clear a room when they began their slow build up to victory sex – which they tended to have a lot of.

“So wait, Scott ate _what_?” Isaac asked, apparently wanting to hear everything he could about what happened with Scott. It was cute how much the dude cared, if Allison wasn't careful the puppy known as Isaac might steal her man away with his irresistible charm.

“ _Pokeberries_. One of the symptoms of eating too many of them is an increase in your heart rate. So I guess that solves the day's mystery.” Allison answered while Scott just sat there on his log, eating his deer, smiling like he was as innocent as the sunrise.

“I only ate like a handful… or two.” He tried to defend himself but everyone just laughed. At least things were back to normal _ish_. After the day Stiles had, he was glad to just be around the fire with everyone. No more out of control Scott, no more broody Alpha (Derek had surprisingly been in a good mood since the pack brought back the deer. Stiles made a mental note that gifting Derek with food was a good way into the Alpha's heart), and no more… angst.

It was nice.

And then Stiles heard it. He didn't think his mind was playing tricks on him, but it was possible. He was the only one to react to it.

“Stiles, where are you going?” Derek asked, and Stiles hadn't even realized he had stood from his seat. He placed his plastic plate with his late lunch where he'd been sitting and looked around for a minute.

“I thought I heard something.” He answered, and that was enough to get the pack to quiet down. They waited and Stiles strained to hear it again. Part of him hoped he'd actually heard it, the other part of him dreaded what it might mean.

But there it was again, and Derek for sure heard it as well. “It's just a cougar Stiles, don't worry about it, it'll leave us alone.” Stiles's heart pounded in his chest as he silently freaked out. He knew it was the little dude from before. He'd recognize that cry anywhere. The fact that he'd picked up on it when the rest of the pack hadn't, said everything. He was zoned in.

He was emotionally invested in a cougar cub. That was it. His life was over. If the little dude's parents hadn't collected yet, well, that was their own damn fault. Stiles was going to steal it. He didn't care what his father said. He also didn't care about what the law of California said. Little dude wasn't going to be his pet, little dude was going to be his _baby_.

“This is going to sound really, really weird, but I need you to help me find it.” Stiles gave Derek a meaningful look and watched as Derek went through a variety of emotions.

Starting with confused. Ending with amused. Somewhere in there was irritation, something that looked like fond affection, and also an eyebrow raise of contempt.

The most important thing was that it ended with amusement. That meant the Stilinski charm was working its magic.

“Fine,” Derek said finally, getting up from his place and walking towards Stiles. The pack watched, all of them looking _way_ too interested in what was going on. Derek reached Stiles, rested his hands on Stiles's shoulders, and turned him in the opposite direction.

“We should probably start off looking in the right direction though.” Stiles would've retorted with some quip that he had a sense of adventure instead of direction but he was too excited about the idea of finding dude and showing the cute little cub off to the pack.

And maybe he was more than a little surprised Derek had given in so easily to his request.

He should definitely kiss the guy more often, if it had this result.

Derek steered them towards the trees and paused when they reached the edge of the small clearing. He looked over his shoulder and gave the group a serious look. “We'll be back soon.” A few of them nodded their acknowledgement but Derek didn't seem to mind the fact that half of his pack had basically ignored something he'd said. He just continued on, his hands still on Stiles's shoulders as he directed them through the trees.

They got about five steps before Stiles heard the cub again and all but liquefied into a puddle. The only thing keeping him from exploding was the tense grip on his shoulders.

“How far away do you think it is?” Stiles asked, looking through the trees impatiently, hoping the cub wasn't stuck between a log and rocks again. Poor guy.

“Not much further.” Derek answered gruffly. For a minute or so they kept on in silence, and with each step they took Stiles could hear the soft cries more clearly. Abruptly Derek came to a halt, jerking Stiles back by his shoulders.

Before Stiles could question the action, Derek's lips were on his, and any coherent thoughts dissolved in surprise and confusion. It only took a split second for his lips to clue in, instinctively accepting the warmth and desperation behind Derek's kisses.

Unconsciously Stiles's hands wrapped around Derek's hips, pulling them closer until it seemed there was no space at all between them. Derek's hand was on the back of Stiles's neck, the other tangled in Stiles's hair. It was deep and warm, and Stiles's head began to spin because he'd given up on breathing. He just wanted to inhale Derek, let Derek take anything he wanted.

Stiles licked into Derek's mouth and Derek rumbled pleasantly, sucking a bit on Stiles's tongue before letting him pull away. They paused for a moment, finally enabling Stiles to catch his breath. The entire forest around them was completely quiet, and Stiles didn't bother opening his eyes to help himself remember where they were or what had brought them together, alone, in the first place.

He opened his mouth to say something, but Derek's teeth found his lower lip, and the shudder it sent through Stiles's body was _the best distraction, ever_.

Derek's teeth and lips and tongue were the deadliest weapon known to man, _especially_ when combined and devouring a certain sixteen year old, who was well on his way to begging Derek to _never, ever stop_.

Stiles was already half-hard, his jeans getting increasingly uncomfortable with every nip and lick, and he could tell Derek was equally as enthusiastic. His hands were in the process of trailing up Derek's ridiculously, godly toned back, when something broke Stiles out of his foggy paradise. The little cub was still crying out, still somewhere nearby.

“Der… _Derek_.” Stiles tried to sound authoritative, but suddenly Derek was trailing kisses down his jawline and chin, coming to rest over Stiles's sensitive neck. Derek's breath ghosted over the mark he'd left from before and Stiles's dick twitched to life in his pants. Stiles could practically feel Derek’s lips curling up into a predatory smile.

Suddenly Derek was palming him through his jeans, and sucking at the skin around the bite mark, causing a tingling of pain mixed with pleasure that Stiles really didn't mind admitting he _really fucking liked_.

And Derek seemed to really like the way Stiles's nails were digging into his back, because everything seemed to just intensify and Stiles was definitely not complaining.

Except there it was again. Little cub dude mewing, even closer.

“Oh my- _god_.” Stiles really tried, really, _truly_ he did. But can you really blame the guy? It was Derek. And Derek's hands. And his mouth. His _everything_. But they could continue this after they found dude. At least, Stiles really hoped they would. “Derek, _dude_ , we gotta… slow down.” Stiles paused, biting his lip to help fight the urge to pull Derek's lips back up to his. Derek pulled away slightly, still keeping an extremely close and intimate distance to Stiles.

“Why? You gonna come in your pants Stiles?” Derek asked, his voice low and teasing, and his breath was tickling Stiles's throat. Stiles scoffed to hide the fact that yeah, he could probably lose it, just like this, even with Derek barely touching him.

“ _Fuck_.” Stiles hissed through clenched teeth. All it took last time was for Derek to say Stiles's name. Luckily, this time around, Stiles was a little more focused. “No. Please, can we just?” Stiles ended the question by placing his hand on Derek's chest and pushing him away slightly.

Derek tilted his head, an unsure smile replacing the confidence and teasing that had been there seconds before. “Sorry, I thought-,” he began but then, like the flip of a coin, the walls went up and whatever he was feeling was hidden behind a mask of composure. He cleared his throat, “nevermind. It doesn't matter.” And nope. Stiles was not having this.

There was no way in hell Derek was going to close back up and be an asshole again.

He grabbed Derek's face and made him look into his eyes. “It does matter. It matters more than anything, to me, what you think, Derek.” And Stiles didn't care about how gooey he felt. The harshness behind Derek's eyes lessened, just enough.

“I thought,” Derek started, still unsure, but determined, “you just wanted to get away from the pack. Be alone.” He looked a little sour at the end, like now that he was hearing himself saying the idea out loud it was repulsive and stupid. But it totally wasn't. If all it took was for Stiles to _want_ them to be alone, he would've started off with this.

“I want that. I want to have hours and hours of time to be alone and have you dirty talk me out of my pants okay? That is a thing that needs to happen from now on.” Stiles rubbed his thumb gently across Derek's cheek, and Derek's hands came up to rest over Stiles's. “Just, right now, I actually really need to find that cub, okay?” Derek frowned, still a little confused. “Don't ask, just lead.” Stiles said and then quickly pecked Derek's lips, because oh my fucking god, he could.

Derek took a moment, seemingly trying to figure out if he should listen to Stiles or drag him back to the camp. Luckily for Stiles, that last kiss must've short-circuited Derek's brain enough to get him to concede.

Derek huffed out, nodding, before turning and walking away from Stiles. Stiles, who was watching Derek's ass with a smirk on his face, took a moment to catch up.

When Stiles finally did rejoin Derek, Derek had slowed down for some reason, and was sniffing the air with his eyebrows pulled into a tight frown. When the next cub meow sounded, Derek's entire body froze solid, and his hands shot out towards Stiles to stop him too, which may or may not have made Stiles choke on his own saliva in surprise.

“Dude! What the hell was that for?” Stiles yelped. Suddenly Derek was holding him closer, his body tense and his nostrils flaring. Instinctively Stiles went on high alert, anticipating whatever danger had Derek going on the defensive.

“Stiles-,” Derek started but Stiles's attention was lost on the furry face that had cautiously poked its nose out from behind the safety of a tree trunk. The cub mewed, but it was almost overpowered by the growl raising dangerously someone behind Stiles. It took a moment to figure out that it was Derek rumbling threateningly.

“It's okay man, the little dude's alone. It's not gonna hurt us.” Stiles tried to break out of Derek's grip but Derek just held on tighter, the growl growing worse. “Let me go!” Stiles demanded, though it sounded a lot less menacing next to Derek's snarling.

“Stiles, you don't understand, it isn't-,” Derek started, but Stiles wasn't listening, as he was too busy struggling against Derek's hold in his attempt to reconnect with the cub. The cub had begun to move closer, its dark grey eyes fixed on Stiles. The little growl it had from before came back as it stalked closer. “Stiles!” Derek pleaded, and his tone slowed Stiles's fighting.

He huffed out, “it's just a cub Derek.” Stiles didn't understand why Derek was acting up. Coming from the cub it was understandable, but not from the mighty Alpha. He stilled his movements, long enough for Derek to relax his grip, and then twisted away from Derek's hands and quickly crossed the remaining space between him and the cub.

As soon as he reached down and scooped the cub up, it stopped growling and kept its eyes focused intently on Derek. Stiles cooed, bringing the soft fur of the cub's face against his cheeks. It seemed to relax a bit, a quiet purr breaking the tense silence that had taken over.

“Hey little dude,” Stiles whispered, “Thought I told you to find your parents.” The cub whined then, high-pitched and needy, and heartbreaking. It wriggled in his grip until its paws were on his chest and it was looking right into his eyes. “Awwe man. That's not even fair. You're melting my heart here.” It sneezed, its whole body tensing with the action. Lucky for Stiles, it was a dry sneeze, so he wasn't covered in cougar snot.

“Stiles, please-,” at the sound of Derek's voice the cub looked over Stiles's shoulder to stare Derek down.

“What's your problem dude?” Stiles asked and glanced over at Derek. And then he did a double take, because Derek looked horrified. “Why are you looking at me like you've never seen an almost grown man fall in love with an oversized kitten?” Horrification was not what Stiles would've expected from Derek's eyebrows. He thought maybe awe, or affection, something to indicate how freakin' awesome it was that Stiles was holding a live, wild cougar. Even if it was just a cub.

That just magnified the adorableness, I mean, really.

Derek sniffed, keeping his eyes trained on the cub. “Stiles. It's not what you think it is.” The cub's body started trembling, and it nuzzled Stiles's chin with its nose, like it was trying to get his attention. He looked over at it, his heart beating harshly in his chest. It let out a low whine, nuzzling its nose against his cheek.

“What is it then? Too cute for your mind to fully process? Are you allergic to sweet, innocent cougar cubs? Hmm?” Stiles began strong, but that ended abruptly when he started cooing and talking in his baby voice. He lifted the cub closer to him, showering its fluffy face in kisses. It protested, covering his eyes with its paws and pushing him away. Stiles chuckled, still trying to give the cub all the love.

If he didn't know any better, he could've swore there was a strangled laugh from Derek's direction, covered up by a cough.

“No. It's a cub alright. But it's a shape shifter, Stiles.” Derek said, his voice level, and somewhat teasing. Stiles froze, mid kiss. There was a long pause. The cub's paws slowly slid down Stiles's face, and Stiles looked at it, not entirely processing what Derek had said. The cub slowly leaned over until its nose was touching Stiles's, and before Stiles could say anything, it planted a kiss on his still puckered lips.

Derek growled, taking a menacing step towards them, and instantly the cub tensed, rumbling furiously at Derek, its claws extending from its paws and into Stiles's chest where they rested.

“Ow, ow, _ow_ , _ow_. _Okay!_ Jesus! No need to rip me apart little dude,” Stiles groaned as the cub kept trying to climb up him, probably in an attempt to get further away from the grouchy Alpha. Which right now, Stiles could sympathize.

“Her pack could be anywhere in this forest. If they find us with her, those claws will only be the first to tear into you.” Derek warned, still growling. Stiles rolled his eyes, but something heavy in his chest kept him from shooting back with something sarcastic.

He looked into little dude’s eyes – which, now he at least knew he was a _she_ (biologically speaking of course) – and he saw something there that made his heart ache. She looked afraid and confused, and just downright _sad_. And those are all the sort of emotions that Stiles understood. That _Derek_ understood.

“So, little dude,” Stiles started, patting gently down her back in an attempt to calm her. “If you're a shape shifter, does that mean you can turn into anything you want? I bet you can turn into a _dinosaur_!” Derek scoffed.

“Don't be ridiculous Stiles,” Derek cut in but Stiles hushed him.

“Don't listen to grumpy pants over there; you can be _whatever you want_.” Stiles cooed, and the little cub softly began to purr, and tilted her head at him, like she was listening intently. “But, you know what would be really cool? If you could shift back into a human so we could talk!” Stiles smiled encouragingly, but the cub huffed and shook her head.

Actually shook her head.

Stiles had heard about shape shifters before, from Deaton. It was a short conversation, so he didn't really learn much, just that shifters originally started out human but were born with the ability to transform into animals. And not just half-assed, like apparently werewolves did. They could actually take the form of specific animals. And that was _awesome_.

Seeing the little dude, shaking her head like she was human, was bizarre, but Stiles would get used to it. Cuteness was easily adapted to.

“I'm sure her pack is nearby.” Derek said, but he didn't sound confident. Stiles sighed, giving Derek a deadpan look. If Derek couldn't hear anything, smell anything, or sense anything else nearby, the cub was alone. And that was not okay.

“And I'm sure that they'll be more than happy to find their little cutie pie, with us. People who won't harm her.” Stiles felt the cub press more closely to his body.

“Yeah, or they'll think we _are_ going to harm her, and then we'll have an even bigger problem on our hands.” Derek replied stiffly, glaring at the cub like this was all her fault.

“Derek.” Stiles said and Derek's eyes snapped up to meet his. “We can't leave her alone, okay?” Stiles couldn't even bear the idea of leaving her alone and defenceless again. It was easy when he thought she'd be looked after by her _cougar_ parents, but that wasn't the case anymore.

She wouldn't have crawled her way, towards _Stiles_ , in her cougar form, if she felt she had any other choice. If her parents were out there looking for her.

So that only meant one thing.

She was in danger, or her parents were, and she needed help.

Derek was silent for a long time, watching as the cub mewed quietly and head-butted Stiles's face with affection. She purred, and her claws were still clinging tightly, but only to Stiles's shirt now, thank god. When she licked his chin again, Derek let out an angry huff of air. “Do you know what she's doing?”

Stiles frowned, a little confused. “Uh.” He thought back to what Lydia had said earlier, about the whole scenting thing, and how he'd smelled _wrong_ apparently, according to the pack. And that had been after his cuddle session with little dude. “Scent marking.”

And just like that, it clicked in Stiles's head.

They were all literally dogs. All of them.

“Yeah.” Derek said, like that was his whole argument and it was completely valid. Which it wasn't. There was no argument valid enough to justify leaving a cub – no matter its species or supernatural affiliation – completely alone in the middle of a forest.

“Is that why you were growling at her? Because you marked your territory and she's rubbing herself all over it?” And that would be ridiculous, because Stiles wasn't _territory_.

And if he wanted _Eau Du Cub_ rather than _Eau Du Possessive Alpha_ , then there was nothing Derek could do about it.

“She’s not pack.” Derek stated. Again, not really justification.

“Okay, well she's lost and alone and afraid, and if you think it's okay to just leave her alone then you're seriously not the guy I thought you were.” Stiles replied, his voice rising angrily and the little cub started growling at Derek.

At least someone was on Stiles's side.

Derek's eyes narrowed at the cub, but when he looked back over at Stiles he softened. “Stiles, it could be dangerous for the pack. It's not even a good idea for you to be touching her right now.” His voice was low and pleading, tugging at Stiles's heart for the pack.

“Can you just trust me? Please?” Two could play at that game. Stiles could be downright adorable when he wanted to be. Just had to widen the eyes a bit, let his lower lip tremble. He raised the cub up a bit, putting their faces side by side.

Derek didn't stand a chance.

He groaned, looked up at the sky like he was asking the gods  _why_. When he finally looked back down he looked frustrated, his eyebrows pulled down in a frown. “Fine. But if her pack is out there looking for her, and they attack us, we won't hold back.” Derek glared at them both, threateningly.

But Stiles couldn't hear Derek's eyebrows over the sweet taste of success.


	16. Chapter 16

“Who's the cutest little pumpkin? Who's the furriest, sweetest cub in the whole world? You are! Yeah you are. Jeez, your eyes are probably the most adorable things I've ever seen.” Stiles hadn't stopped cooing over the cub since he and Derek had found the thing alone in the woods. Derek still wasn't sure how he felt about the cub, and whether or not letting Stiles talk him into taking the cub was a sign of weakness, or one of stupidity.

Or maybe it was something else. Something Derek didn't want to examine too closely.

“You're gonna give Scott a run for his money dude. Even Pus 'n Boots couldn't measure up.” Stiles paused, for the first time in what seemed like hours, and a thoughtful look crossed his eyes. That could only mean one thing: trouble. “Ohmygosh. We're buying you boots.” Stiles stated, like that was a thing that was going to happen no matter what. Without skipping a beat he focused on Derek next, the determination in his gaze robbing Derek of his immediate negative response. “Derek. We're buying her boots. And a hat. With a feather in it. Okay, maybe not a feather, because she's not a pimp. Or she is. Which would still be cool. So badass. And if she's badass then we're getting her a sword too. She'll be our badass, boot wearing, pimpin' cub.”

Derek sighed, half-heartedly listening while still trying to maintain an ounce of control over himself. He wouldn't kill Stiles. No. The twitch in his hand wasn't threatening Stiles's life. It was merely driving Derek to insanity. It wanted to reach out and touch. Explore a body that wasn't his. It held a hunger that Derek thought had died, along with his family and his relationship with Kate.

“Why does it sound like you think this cub's going to be sticking around long enough to play dress up with you?” Stiles had been saying something, no doubt more confessions of his undying affection for the cub, but Derek's question had silenced him.

“I don't _think_ that. I _hope_. I hope that this little cub is the one pure, innocent thing in this screwed up supernatural world that I'm living in now, that I can be in awe over without it trying to rip my throat out. Not that I regret stepping into this shit with you guys, but every now and again it'd be nice to come across something that wasn't trying to kill us.” Stiles huffed out with an angry sort of gusto, his hands expressing how deeply he felt about the subject. Derek watched, eyebrows raised, as Stiles's cheeks flustered as he grew more and more animated. When he was finally done the crimson blush remained.

Derek forced himself to look away.

“Fair enough.” He breathed out and continued, sparing a small glance over his shoulder to catch a glimpse of the confusion on Stiles's face.

“' _Fair_ _enough'_?” Stiles asked, like he was seriously baffled by the idea that the argument had been won so easily. Derek let out a small sigh before stopping and looking back at Stiles with his eyebrows raised.

“Yeah. Fair enough. You're not the only one getting tired, Stiles. I don't want to be in a state of paranoia, constantly watching over my shoulder for the next threat trying to take down our pack.” They were getting closer to the camp site; soon there would be no turning back. When the pack set their eyes on the cub, that would be it. Game over.

Derek wasn't blind. He could admit that the little shape shifter was cute. She reminded him a little of his younger cousins, the ones that lived with him when the fire had burned down the Hale house, and everything and everyone inside of it.

“Thank you.” Stiles said, barely above a whisper. Derek looked at him over his shoulder to see that the kid was deep in thought about something. “For everything. Looking after the pack. Saving my ass more times than I can count. Just. Thanks.” Derek looked away, not wanting to show the slew of emotions that were threatening to overcome him.

No one had ever really thanked Derek. Not since he'd gotten his entire family killed, that is. Peter had said it a few times, but it was either sarcastically or with an insane amount of sass, so it never felt right. Always felt like a lie.

This didn't though.

Without warning, from even himself, Derek stopped and turned to face Stiles. Before the boy could ask what was wrong Derek grabbed Stiles's face and pulled him in for a desperate kiss, one that Derek wanted to drown himself in. He would've done just that, except the paw pushing on his chin stopped him. A strangled meow of protest sounded and the cub squirmed between them, forcing Derek away from Stiles. He flailed for a moment, trying to keep the cub from falling to the ground.

Derek gave the cub an irritated look before turning on his heels and walking away. The sooner they got back to the camp the sooner he could order someone else to take the cub, and that would leave Stiles all to him. And, if he was being honest with himself – which, not an easy thing to do – that's all he really wanted at the moment.

\---

“Oh. My. God. Stiles, is that a…?” Allison trailed off, staring at the cub in awe. Stiles smiled, because yeah, he knew Allison would be the first to fall prey to dude's charm.

“Yeah, she's the cutest thing ever.” He answered her, and watched in amusement as the entire pack just stared at them, speechless. They kept looking between Stiles, the cub, and Derek, waiting for their Alpha to explain a few things. Like, for starters, why the cub didn't smell like a normal cougar cub.

Allison and Lydia were the only ones who were openly fawning over the precious little dude, just like Stiles had. Isaac looked like he wanted to join in, but was wary of the fact that little dude was an unidentified species that may or may not be dangerous.

Derek just stood there with his arms crossed tightly over his chest, glaring at the cub (in what Stiles definitely identified as jealousy, which he had to admit was really fucking sexy and hilarious at the same time because it was a _cub_ ). “How is that thing not clawing your eyes out Stilinski?” Jackson asked, pulling Stiles's attention away from Mr. Broody.

He looked down at the cub to see that it was looking up at him with a gaze that was eerily human and contained some pretty fierce emotions. Her body was tense, probably feeling threatened by the presence of seven werewolves. He wanted to let her know somehow that everything was going to be okay, so he leaned down and kissed her forehead a few times, murmuring some reassurances that he wouldn't let anything happen to her. She began to purr slightly, but not as loudly as before. At least it was something.

“It doesn't smell right.” Danny said leaning a bit closer as he sniffed the air. Instantly the purrs were replaced by little warning growls and she snuggled in as closely as she could to Stiles, her claws scratching a bit at his arms in her attempts. The hair on her body seemed to puff up, giving her a distinct ball of fluff look. Stiles petted at it, trying to get her to calm down.

“ _She_ smells exactly as she should smell.” Stiles said defensively, still smoothing down her fur.

A hesitant smile spread across Allison's lips. “Can I pet her?” She asked, slowly raising a hand towards the cub. The cub eyed Allison wearily before looking up at Stiles and meowing with worry. Allison stopped her approach and visibly deflated.

“It's okay little dude! Allison just wants to get in on all this love you and I have going on. She won't hurt you!” Most of the pack was looking at him like he was mental, which, yeah, maybe he was sometimes when he didn't take his Adderall. But they needed to _cease and desist_ their judging.

The cub looked back at Allison and watched her for a moment before snuffling in her direction. Allison's smile reappeared as she held out her hand for the cub to experimentally sniff. Scott tensed, ready to pull Allison away at the first sign of aggression, and the cub literally gave him a deadpan look. She shifted in Stiles's arms and placed her paw on Allison's hand.

“Hey there sweetie,” Allison smiled, reaching up with her free hand to carefully scratch behind Dude's ear. Dude instantly started to purr, leaning into the touch and closing her eyes, looking very much at ease. Scott relaxed, but continued to watch the cub like she was a homicidal maniac, ready to snap at any moment. Which, hello Scott? It's a cub. A cute, sweet, innocent cub.

“You need to simmer down,” Stiles said, pointing directly at Scott. When he realized how worked up he'd gotten he began to soften, but still looked ready to pounce. Stiles rolled his eyes, hoping that nothing would trigger any of them.

The pack was silent for a moment, which was a little unnerving, but finally, after what seemed like ages, Derek spoke. “She's a shape shifter. We found her alone, without her pack.” There was something dark about his tone, like he was insinuating something not so good.

Something Stiles didn't want to think about because it would break his heart.

Stiles expected a bit more of a reaction out of the pack, not the uniform _shrugging_ and _oh's_. Everyone seemingly relaxed, and Isaac, who'd been holding back before, came to give the cub some snuggles too.

“Uh. You guys do realize this is the first time ever you're meeting a shape shifter, right? Like, I didn't miss something did I?” Stiles asked, frowning. They should be excited or at least curious, asking all sorts of questions, like _normal_ people would be.

But they weren't normal anymore. Once you've seen one supernatural creature apparently you've seen them all.

“And your point is…?” Danny asked as he joined in too. The cub seemed to be okay with all the attention, in fact, she was practically beaming. She pushed her head into their hands, purring and nuzzling them.

“Stiles, put her down.” Derek ordered, but Stiles didn't listen right away. He gave the cub a couple last kisses before lowering her to the ground. He was a little worried that she'd dart away, run off and hide, and they'd never see her again. But it was her choice. They weren't holding her captive. She'd chosen to find him after he'd left her by the stream, and it would still be her choice whether or not she wanted to stay with them or go.

Even if she was just a cub, potentially, without her pack.

She stayed extremely close to Stiles, curled in between his legs in the beginning. Allison and Isaac sat down on the ground, laughing and bickering, arguing about who would get to snuggle her first. Danny joined soon after, sitting down next to Isaac. Erica raised her eyebrow at the cub, but she wasn't fooling anyone. In a second she sat down too.

Derek, to Stiles's disbelief, crouched down and gave the cub a reassuring pat on the back. “It's okay, go on.” She listened, slowly putting one paw in front of the other until she was directly centred in front of the four of them. She eyed them each in turn, Allison and Isaac still fighting over who got her first. She breathed out, almost sounding _exactly_ like a _sigh_ , and plopped herself half in Danny's lap and half in Erica's.

So, she was a little sassy. Stiles wasn't sure if their pack could handle anymore sass, what with Derek being the biggest drama queen ever.

Danny and Erica tried not to look too smug as Allison and Isaac shot them both dirty looks. Stiles just grinned and looked over at Derek to see that there was a little turn up in his lips. Little dude had definitely won the big sour wolf over. When Derek noticed Stiles was watching him he cleared his throat and motioned for Stiles and the others that were standing to follow him over to the fire pit.

“So, how exactly did you find it-,” Scott paused at the sudden glare thrown at him by Stiles, “I mean, _her_. How and where did you find her?” Derek looked at Stiles expectantly, and the rest followed suit.

“Uh. Well, earlier, when Derek went off after Scott and I went… _exploring_ , I found her stuck between a rock and a log, so I did what any decent human being would do, and I freed her. No big deal. I told her to find her parents and that was that. I walked away and didn't see her again until just now.” He looked over his shoulder and watched while the cub pawed at Isaac. “I had no idea she was a shape shifter, just thought she was a cougar cub in need.”

“The fact that she even let you touch her in the first place should've been a pretty good indicator that she wasn't a wild animal, Stiles.” Lydia said, matter of fact. Stiles turned to shoot her an irritated glare but found Derek already doing it for him. His heart jolted a bit, which was enough to catch Derek's attention, and the guy instantly looked away from all of them. Lydia just rolled her eyes and crossed her arms.

“Okay, so we know what she really is, but that's just about it. Do we know her name? Why she was out there all alone?” Scott asked, still eyeing the cub wearily.

“No, last time I checked I couldn't really speak fluent _cougar_.” Stiles replied, not really feeling the whole scepticism that Scott was showing towards the cub.

“Then how do we know it's not a threat?” Scott growled and Stiles openly glared back at his best friend. The cub needed them. She needed their help. Stiles understood the necessity of knowing all the angles in this situation, for the sake of safety for the pack. But what about the safety of the cub? No matter what she was still just a kid.

“Scott's right Stiles,” Derek said quietly, placing his hand on Stiles's shoulder. He wanted to shrug it off, or bite it, but he remained still. The weight was a little grounding. “We have to see if we can get her to shift back into human form, but she won't do that if she feels threatened.” Derek sounded thoughtful. As he spoke his hand slid across Stiles's back, all the way until it rested on the opposite shoulder and Stiles was positioned protectively under Derek's arm. “Why don't we all hit the lake?” He said, randomly, and turned both himself and Stiles towards the cub and the rest of them. “I think you've all earned some time to relax.”

“That isn't exactly getting to the root of the problem here Derek.” Jackson said, although Stiles wasn't hearing any objections from the rest of the pack. Derek seemed to ignore Jackson as he steered Stiles towards his tent.

“I want everybody ready to go in five minutes!” He ushered Stiles into the tent, and Stiles went without hesitating or questioning, because his brain might've been malfunctioning. “Bathing suits _are_ mandatory.” Derek said, pointedly looking at Scott who instantly blushed. Apparently Derek had been paying attention on the car ride up.

When he joined Stiles in the tent he zipped it up and turned towards Stiles. There was a soft look on his face as his eyes traced over Stiles from the neck up. Both had to lean over to avoid hitting the top of the tent with their heads, and it was a little dark in there considering the dark green fabric absorbed most of the sunlight beating down on it.

A cautious hand reached out, fingers hovering over the bite mark left on Stiles's throat. It tingled, and the hair on his neck began to rise. Fingertips brushed over the sensitive skin around the bite, tracing a circle around it.

“I'm sorry.” Derek said quietly and rested his other hand against Stiles's shoulder. He gently pressed downwards and Stiles took that as a sign to lower himself onto his knees.

A part of him, the part that was hormonally electrified, thought maybe it was time for sexy times since the cub had sorta cock blocked them before. The other part of him, the one that wanted to wrap his arms around Derek's shoulders and comfort him and understand him, did exactly that. Or, at least, the wrapping of the arms and the pulling into a comforting hug part. Stiles wasn't exactly sure he'd _ever_ be able to understand Derek. But he'd try. And he'd never stop trying.

Derek didn't fight it; he fell into Stiles's arms and buried his face into Stiles's neck, grabbing at Stiles's back with his warm hands to bring them closer. They remained crouched, embracing, for some time. Stiles's knees began to ache, and his back was in serious need of some cracking from staying in such an awkward position for such a length of time. But he didn't dare move.

It felt so _right_. So _honest_.

“I don't want to be like _her_.” Derek suddenly buried his face deeper, threateningly close to the bite mark. But Stiles didn't twitch an inch. “And I know you’re not me. _God_. You're not me. You're such a pain in the ass.” It sounded fond, so Stiles didn't smack Derek on the back of the head for calling him a pain in the ass. They were silent again for a while, until Derek pulled away and looked Stiles in the eye. There was a caution there, one that told Stiles that if he said or did the wrong thing Derek would run away. “Do you want…?” Derek trailed off, visibly losing confidence as he tried to force the words out. He looked away from Stiles, down to his trembling hands still wrapped around Stiles's hips.

Stiles bit his lip, hoping Derek wouldn't scare _himself_ away. “Hey,” Stiles whispered, placing a hand under Derek's chin to get him to look back up. There was a war waging deep in Derek's dark green eyes. Stiles wanted to reach in and pull Derek out, fill it with peace and care and everything that had been missing for far too long in those suffering eyes. Derek was torn. And that tortured Stiles. “It's okay, alright? I'm here. You're okay.” He tangled his fingers into Derek's hair as he rested their foreheads together.

He leaned in hesitantly, his lips hovering over Derek's. Derek closed his eyes and the distance between their lips vanished. For a moment they were lost in the kiss, but it was chaste and quick and over too soon before Derek pulled away and looked towards the tent's entrance.

“We should get going.” He said low and under his breath. He untangled himself from Stiles and began to leave. Stiles's hand caught his though.

“The answer is _yes_ , Derek. Yes, I want.” Stiles didn't know why he said it, didn't even really know what he was answering to, but he hoped it would bring Derek some peace and reassurance. If he had to tell Derek every single day, then he would. He would tell Derek until his voice went hoarse.

Derek was silent, looking down at their hands clasped together. Before he let go, Stiles could swear he felt a subtle squeeze of pressure.

In the few seconds that Stiles had alone he felt himself relaxing into a smile. Things were starting to work themselves out. He could focus on the cub now, which was a good thing considering she was now sitting at the open entrance of the tent, staring at him expectantly.

Stiles rubbed his hand through his hair a few times before throwing it out towards her. “Alright, alright. Let's go have some fun in the sun.” He scooped her up and joined the rest of the pack, all of whom were already dressed in their bathing suits. He contemplated just stripping down into his boxers, but they weren't exactly swimming material. He passed the cub to Allison, “Okay I know you guys are gonna hate me but just give me two seconds.” He raced towards his bags and dug for his trunks. The entire pack groaned, _including_ Derek, which Stiles might've been able to pick out from the entire group. “Two seconds!” Stiles called again as he flailed into the tent to change.

Things were really starting to look up.


	17. Chapter 17

The lake was absolutely gorgeous, and the weather was perfect. As soon as they reached the shore there was clothing flying everywhere as the pack stripped out of their layers. Now, Stiles had never really been the sort of dude to care too much about appearances (although he does admit to usually lusting after the beautiful people with rockin' bods and rough personalities) but his pack was probably the hottest group of people in existence. That little fact was always known, but it was being reiterated now, as they all charged into the water.

Stiles hung back, obviously, with the cub still in his arms. He sat down in the grass and let the cub rest in his lap. Derek hovered nearby, though it was clear by the way he kept looking over at everyone in the water that he wanted to join in with his pack mates.

"I'm good here if you wanna take a swim.” Stiles said, squinting up at Derek through the sunlight. Derek looked away from the water and down at Stiles, a small frown on his face.

“I'm not leaving you alone.” Derek stated firmly, giving Stiles a stern look that had ' _I'm_ _a stubborn Alpha_ ' written all over it. Derek wasn't going to budge. Or, well, he usually wouldn't. But Stiles was evil and devious and he abused his powers.

He reached up, waving Derek closer. He only hesitated for a moment before he was leaning downwards, near enough that Stiles could grip his shirt and guide him closer. Their lips met, Stiles's heart beating harshly as an intense heat washed over him, hotter than the rays of the sun beating down on them. Derek moved to deepen the kiss, softly resting his hand on the back of Stiles's neck, but Stiles broke the embrace, forcing Derek away with the hold he still had on the other man's shirt.

They were completely silent for a moment, breathing heavily and listening to the hard thumping of heartbeats. “I won't be alone. You'll be right over there, and if anything did happen, _which it won't_ , I trust you to get over here in time to face down whatever it is.” Stiles pulled Derek into another kiss, licking into his mouth and sucking at his lips. Derek let out a low rumble, deep in his throat.

“No sex on the beach!” Danny hollered and then everyone instantly added their own input – Scott groaning; Lydia, Allison, Erica, and Isaac laughing; Stiles imagined Jackson was rolling his eyes, and Boyd probably just did not give one single fuck. He smiled, kissing Derek one last time before pulling away. Derek trailed after Stiles as he went, his eyes still closed and his lips half parted.

“Go on Alpha, your pack's waiting for you.” Stiles could feel his lips still tingling, his nerves still electrified. Suddenly Derek was standing upright and the cub was no longer in Stiles's lap.

“ _Our_ pack is waiting for us.” Derek grumbled, turning towards the water and walking away without another glance or word. Stiles let out a huff of breath, ran his fingers through his hair as he tried to let the fresh air cool him off a bit.

Stiles jumped to his feet and followed after Derek and the cub. When they reached the very edge of the water Derek stopped and whispered something to Dude that Stiles couldn't quite hear. When he got closer Derek turned to look at him, his expression was unreadable.

He leaned over and placed the cub on the ground. She hesitated, looked up at Derek with an annoyed glower in her eyes. She let out a chuff and pawed at the water, daintily shaking her paw when she pulled it back. She meowed, taking a couple steps backwards but Derek's legs were in her way.

Stiles wanted to scoop her up and carry her as far away from the water as she pleased, but Derek seemed determined not to let Stiles pick her back up. When he tried, Derek rested his hand firmly against Stiles's chest and kept him at a distance.

“She's imprinting on you, but she already has a pack, Stiles. Family. People who are better equipped to deal with a shape shifting cub. If you keep holding her and rubbing your face in her fur she's going to think that you're _hers_.” Derek was almost growling at the end. Stiles sighed and stopped trying to push against Derek's hand.

“Okay but stop trying to get her to go in the water.” Stiles whined, watching the cub tremble at Derek's feet. Derek rolled his eyes.

“I'm not. Did I throw her in? No.” Derek replied and suddenly looked over at Stiles with a dangerous gleam in his eye that did not mean anything good for Stiles. Before he could say anything Derek grabbed a hold of Stiles and pulled him close, wrapped his arms around his waist and lifted him from the ground. Stiles flailed and protested, pushing against Derek's arms to try and loosen the guy's grip enough so that he could slip out, but that was impossible. Stupid werewolf strength.

The lake water wasn't freezing, but it wasn't exactly _warm_ either. Derek carried Stiles until they were both waist deep in the lake. Suddenly Stiles's feet were swept from underneath him and Derek manoeuvred so that he ended up cradling Stiles in both arms. “If you throw me I swear I'm going to kill-,” Stiles started to threaten but Derek's lips grazed his earlobe before abruptly Stiles was airborne, and any words Stiles had in mind were strangled by the shriek of surprise that Derek had _actually done it_.

Stiles hit the water and sank like a rock. He resurfaced to the sounds of cackling laughter. It took him a moment to reorient himself but when he did he locked on. He waded through the water towards Derek, who was grinning in triumph and with a cockiness that was _so_ going to be wiped away when Stiles got through with him.

Stiles forced a pleasant smile on his face as he approached. “What was that about you killing someone?” Derek asked, taunting. Stiles didn't take the bait though. He'd bide his time. Wait for the right moment to strike when he could catch Derek off guard, when he was least expecting it. Then Derek would rue the day he messed with Stiles Stilinski.

“Don't worry sour wolf, your time will come.” Stiles replied, giving Derek a dark look. Derek tilted his head and Stiles reached out to ruffle his hair. They locked eyes for a moment staring intently at one another, just long enough for Isaac to sneak up behind Derek without notice. Stiles looked over Derek's shoulder and smirked when Isaac winked at him.

Isaac coiled and sprang in one swift motion onto Derek's back, knocking them both down into the water thrashing and splashing. Stiles doubled over laughing at the look of sheer surprise on Derek's face before he hit the water and sank out of view.

Before Derek could resurface and somehow blame Stiles for what just happened, Stiles made his way back out of the water towards Dude, who was pacing back and forth, her eyes darting between all of them. She pawed at the water hesitantly and as soon as she noticed him approaching she immediately mewed and swatted in his direction.

Stiles instantly swooned and made grabby hands at her. “I'm coming baby!” He called and waddled over to her, forcing his way through the water awkwardly, the suction making it extremely difficult to be graceful _at all_. Luckily he wasn't planning on becoming a ballerina when he grew up.

He scooped the cub up in his arms and hugged her tight against him. He didn't realize he was still sopping wet until she squirmed to try and get away from him, growling out a tiny protest that was abundantly more adorable than it was intimidating. He set her down and took a seat next to her, his feet just close enough to the edge of the water that the larger waves rolled over the tips of his toes. He stretched out, leaning back on his elbows as he squinted through the sunlight to watch the pack splashing around in the water.

The sun warmed his skin in a matter of seconds, drying off the water from his skin gradually. Derek and Isaac were still play fighting in the water, dunking each other under and surfacing moments later, causing water to splash wildly, hitting anyone who was close enough – which turned out to be Allison. She squealed and jumped into Erica's arms, both of them bursting into a fit of giggles and half-hearted objections as they clung to one another and tried to protect the other from the ongoing assault.

Jackson had somehow managed to convince both Boyd and Danny to participate in what looked like a swimming race only manageable if you were of the supernatural species. The lake was pretty wide, the water stretching far from shore to shore, the depth of it giving it a dark, murky colour. It didn't really matter though. Nothing under those waves could hide anything that the pack couldn't handle.

Stiles glanced over at Derek to admire the way his damp skin glinted in the sunlight – particularly bringing attention to his chiselled pecs and abs – making him look sparkly and causing Stiles to choke on his own laughter because _hello Edward Cullen_. Derek perked up at the sound, his gaze jolting towards Stiles. Isaac took the opportunity to pounce, knocking Derek under the water again. As he went down Stiles could see that a bit further towards the centre of the lake the three-man race was under-way. From this angle it looked like Danny was winning, Jackson and Boyd not far behind.

“I have my money on your boyfriend.” Stiles admitted to Lydia as she approached him. He didn't _want_ Jackson to win, but it was inevitable. As was the gloating they'd all be hearing afterwards.

“Obviously.” Lydia replied, though it was with less snark than Stiles thought should always be present when she spoke. She wasn't even pinning him to his spot with a devastating glare. She seemed preoccupied, looking over his shoulder until she took a seat right next to him. Dude nuzzled under Lydia's arm until she crawled over onto her lap.

“What's going on in that noggin of yours?” He asked, hoping it wasn't anything too critical about him and the Alpha. She blew out a breath of air and scratched behind the cub's ear.

“I'm glad you got the balls to kiss Derek earlier. The sexual tension was starting to drive us all insane.” She smiled at him and patted his hand. “So, now that we've got that out of the way, what's our plan with this little one?” She asked, looking down at Dude with a tentative smile.

“Haven't the faintest clue.” Stiles paused, really thinking it over. “We should call Deaton. Maybe even Allison's dad. Do you think he'd know about any local packs of shifters? You'd think so right? Since he like patrols the territory and everything.” Chris was a last resort. He was still a hunter and he'd be just as stubborn as Derek had been. Deaton was a sympathizer. He'd help. One look at Dude and Deaton would be _putty_.

Lydia was nodding to herself absent-mindedly, no doubt taking his plans and expanding on them, figuring out the details, weighing the possibilities. “Deaton will know how to handle something like this better than Chris. We can't really do anything until we question her.” She looked down at the cub with a calculating expression. “Maybe Alan will know how to get her to shift back.”

“Hey little dude?” Stiles reached out and rubbed behind her ear. “Do you think you'd be willing to shift back for us?” He asked and she looked up at him, her eyes big and almost frantic. “We're gonna get you back to your mom and dad and whoever else you've got, because I know just how much they must miss you.” She let out a small huff and crawled away from Lydia, plopping down right in front of Stiles. She meowed, and the sound of it was just _tragic_. Low and whiney, empathetically Stiles could _feel_ sorrow.

There was so much more to her situation than Stiles had first thought. That was clear now. Because she was trembling. He wanted to reach out and hold her, because she was supposed to be _innocent_ and bouncing around like some sugar-crazed kid, because that's what kids just _did_. They weren't supposed to know sadness or pain until it was a scraped knee, and even those were curable by a swift kiss and words of encouragement.

Somehow Stiles got the feeling that whatever plaguing her was a lot more than a cut or a scratch. Some wounds were just so deep, no matter what age or kind of person you were, you wore the pain. It was a part of you.

It was in her eyes.

It didn't matter that she was a shape shifter, that she hadn't spoken a single word to him, that they'd literally just met that day. She needed his help.

This was made even clearer when suddenly Dude was standing on her hind legs, shifting and transforming right in front of his eyes. Lydia gasped, flinching away in surprise. The cub's features gradually softened; fur turned into skin and cloth, but before Stiles could get a good look at her, the child wrapped her little arms around his neck.

Sobs wracked her shaking, tiny body. Stiles was stunned for a moment, frozen there like he'd been paralysed by the sheer surprise of it all. No one could blame him. It wasn't every day that you got to actually witness a cougar turn into a human child.

His arms wrapped around her protectively, holding her as closely as he could as she silently cried into his shoulder. It was like the entire world had gone quiet, and Stiles realized it wasn't exactly the absence of all sound, it was more the fact that the splashing and laughing and shouting had stopped. The entire pack was looking over in their direction, even Jackson, Danny, and Boyd had stopped before any of them had actually completed their circuit.

“It's okay,” Stiles whispered softly, patting her hair in an attempt to comfort her, “it's going to be alright. I've got you. We're going to be just fine together, right?” He rocked her gently, hoping to calm her down. Her breathing was broken as she sucked in large breathes, and Stiles was starting to panic himself, worrying that she'd start hyperventilating.

Suddenly Derek was hovering over them both, reaching down and rubbing her back gently. After a long moment of silence he and Stiles locked eyes. “Relax your heartbeat.” Derek reached out and placed his hand over Stiles's wrist. “It'll help her calm down.” Stiles didn't know exactly how to slow his frantic heart; he hadn't exactly been through Stiles's Werewolf Training like Scott had (which yeah, had totally worked like a charm; Stiles was _definitely_ Yoda – but that was so not the point at the moment).

Slowly, after it seemed like the sun had lowered significantly in the sky and the whole world just seemed a little drained of the colour and energy it held before, both he and the cub began to breath evenly. She was still buried in his shoulder, her tears flowing at least less steadily than they had been before.

Stiles kept murmuring softly to her, comforting her and letting her know that she was going to be alright, that he wasn't going to leave. She pulled away only slightly, turning so that half her face was plastered into his chest now, while the other side faced the world around her with teary eyes and blotchy red cheeks.

“Hi there,” Derek said, his voice steady and soothing. “You okay?” He asked and Stiles felt the girl in his arms shake her head. He held on tighter to her, wishing he could absorb her fear and pain and make everything right. “You wanna tell me what happened?” She shook her head again. Stiles expected Derek to pause or look uncomfortable; dealing with a distraught child just didn't seem like something Derek would be good at. “What's your name sweetie? I bet it's something really pretty.”

There was a moment of silence. “Mel-… Melanie.” Her voice was so small it made Stiles's heart ache. Derek eased into a warm smile, slowly reaching a hand out to her. She took it tentatively, her small fingers barely able to wrap around three of his fingers.

“Beautiful. Melanie. I like it. I'm Derek, and you already know Stiles. That's Lydia right there, and I think the rest of the introductions can wait until later, hmm? You hungry sweetie?”  He asked and she took a step away from Stiles towards Derek. Stiles watched as she bobbed her head vigorously. She got to the end of her reach, one hand still wrapped around Stiles's neck and pulling him forward slightly.

She looked over at him, their eyes meeting for the first time in her new form. She looked so small and fragile, her eyes still a deep, dark grey with various browns swirled in. There was no way she could've been more than six years old – seven max. What on Earth had she been doing all alone in the middle of the forest?

She watched Stiles expectantly and it took him a moment to realize she wanted him to come with her to Derek. He stood quickly, taking her outstretched hand in his before looking up to meet Derek's gaze.

The rest of the pack was coming to join them, falling in line wordlessly. “I'm sure we can find something for you Melanie.” Erica smiled and Melanie had to lean her head back a ways to be able to look up at her and return the smile.

The smile faded as soon as she looked away though, and that was more than a little heart wrenching. Stiles wasn't sure how his heart hadn't given out on him already.

They started back to the camp in silence, and as soon as they got there Derek immediately retrieved some of the leftover deer rib (which Stiles wasn't entirely sure if a little girl should be eating, but she was a shifter after all and she seemed to light up as soon as she smelled It, so he had a feeling shifter culture was similar to werewolf culture and Derek knew what he was doing… hopefully).

They gathered around the fire as she ate, ripping into it like she hadn't eaten in _days_ , which Stiles really hoped wasn't true. He sighed to himself, wishing he knew more about what had happened. At least she was with them now, they could keep her safe. In the morning he'd hike out to the road to get a cell phone signal and they'd call Deaton, find out more about shape shifters.

Until then Stiles was just relieved that Melanie had felt safe enough to revert back to her human form. When she was ready she'd tell them as much as a six year old could, and they'd make sure she got safely back to her pack.


	18. Chapter 18

Derek watched solemnly from the shadows at the edges of the camp site as Melanie nestled in deeper under Stiles's arm. The pack was sprawled out around the camp fire, chattering and laughing, singing camp songs that Derek only barely remembered from his own camping weekends with his family.

He supressed a sigh, idly rubbing the stress out of his neck. Stiles looked over, the fire catching in his eyes and casting a shadow over half of his face. There was something there in his gaze that sent a shiver straight through Derek's spine.

Stiles _had_ to know exactly what he was doing to Derek, with his eyes half closed like that, gazing at Derek from underneath his thick eyelashes with a hunger and desire that melted Derek's bones. Derek raised an eyebrow and tilted his head towards the tent. Stiles licked at his lips, shifting on the log and accidentally bumping Lydia's shoulder. She looked away from Jackson to face the apologetic Stiles.

She examined the flush in Stiles's cheeks before her eyes darted towards Derek. She leaned in, lowering her voice, “Go on,” she nudged him and nodded at Derek. Stiles took a deep breath, tearing his own gaze away from Derek to frown at Lydia. She rolled her eyes and leaned forward, smiling at Melanie and holding out her hand. “Hey sweetie, how about you give Stiles a break and come sit with Auntie Lydia?” She asked, and Melanie gave her hand a wary look.

“It's okay,” Stiles encouraged her gently. Melanie smiled hesitantly at Lydia, placing her small hand in Lydia's outstretched one. She crawled away from Stiles and into Lydia's lap, quickly cozying herself right up and resting the back of her head on Lydia's shoulder.

“You want to roast some marshmallows?” Lydia asked, and Melanie bit her lip, looking undecided for a moment. It only took a second more before she was frantically nodding her head. As Lydia stabbed a marshmallow with her stick and helped Melanie hold it closer to the fire, Stiles stood and brushed himself off.

He began towards Derek wordlessly, taking his hand and leading him away. Derek didn't protest, but he was definitely curious about Stiles's intent, because every sense Derek had was tingling with anticipation.

They passed the tent and kept going, taking a trail that led deeper into the trees and away from everyone else. “I gotta show you something.” Stiles said, answering Derek's unasked question. It took a bit for Derek's Alpha to submit and allow Stiles to lead him, but Derek controlled it. That and the urge to rip Stiles's clothing off as soon as they were far enough away from the others.

They reached a small clearing and Stiles let go of Derek's hand so that he could flop down on his back on the ground, staring first up at the sky before realizing Derek wasn't doing the same. He had something much more intriguing and beautiful to look at. “Why are you lookin' at me? I brought you here to show you the wonders of the universe!” Stiles's arms stretched out above him, motioning to the darkening evening sky.

Derek looked up and barely saw a hint of starlight through the fairly thick clouds, but he doubted that would diminish any of Stiles's excitement or enthusiasm. The smell of rain was growing more potent by the second, but this was the only time he and Stiles had managed to be alone to really talk, and Derek wasn't going to squander that opportunity.

“Can I kiss you?” Derek asked, looking down at Stiles once more to see his reaction. Stiles's mouth opened, his lips slowly parting, but no sound came out. They looked at each other for a long moment and Derek wasn't sure if the silence was a good thing or a bad thing.

Slowly Stiles reached up for Derek's hand. He pulled him down onto the ground, right next to him. Stiles remained silent, and his heart rate began to increase with each passing moment. Even in the dark Derek could see the blood crawling up Stiles's neck, flushing his cheeks. Stiles cleared his throat suddenly, and in a small whisper, “You can do whatever you want to me.”

The husky tone of Stiles's voice sent a wave of arousal through Derek, and those _words_. He leaned closer, the tip of his nose gently nuzzling Stiles's chin and jawline. He inhaled deeply, burning Stiles's swiftly shifting scent to memory. Where ever he touched Stiles, the smell of _pack_ and _affection_ grew stronger, the sense of it seemingly sinking in deeper and deeper. Derek wanted it to be so completely embedded in Stiles that it was permanently there, no need for scent marking or touching; though, now that he'd started he was fairly certain he might never stop.

“Stiles,” Derek breathed, lightly kissing at the soft, delicate skin at the base of Stiles's neck. The other boy hummed in reply, halfway sighing as he shifted in the grass to wrap his arms around Derek's lower back, pulling them closer. Derek leaned away, only slightly, to get a better look at the mark he'd left on Stiles earlier. He traced over it as carefully as he could. “I'm sorry for that. Earlier, I mean.” He never meant to lose control like that. But then again, they were here now, wrapped up in each other under the moonlight, away from everyone else. So maybe it hadn't been such a terrible thing.

Stiles looked up at him, his big brown eyes searching Derek's face. “You don't have to apologize.” He paused, and a stupid, endearing grin lit up his features. “It was really hot.” Derek chuckled before he could stop himself and the grin on Stiles's face widened. Suddenly his expression shifted though, his eyes growing dark, making Derek's throat dry. Stiles sat up, leaning towards Derek with intent. “You didn't really let me reciprocate though.”

Derek didn't move, he just kept his eyes trained on Stiles. He watched as Stiles got to his knees and faced him, gently placing a hand on his chest so he could push Derek down onto the ground. Derek obeyed wordlessly, anticipation building in his already half hard dick. Stiles straddled Derek's hips as he leaned down to kiss and suck at Derek's lips, his hands fumbling in their attempts to unzip Derek's jeans.

Derek felt a drop of rain hit the side of his face, but Stiles was too focused on shoving Derek's pants down to his knees before slipping his hand into Derek's boxers and all coherent thought was completely lost to the surge of hunger and desire that was starting to overwhelm him. As Stiles's long, slender fingers wrapped around Derek's shaft he shuddered, closing his eyes and focused on keeping his breathing even.

Slowly Stiles's hand started to move, and the leisurely pace was _maddening_. Derek bucked his hips up, trying to fuck himself into Stiles's hand, but Stiles's grip loosened enough so that barely any friction was created by the attempt. “Come on.” Derek growled, wrapping his hand around Stiles's wrist.

Stiles smiled, stealing a kiss as his hand tightened just enough that when he pumped his hand, Derek felt tingles of pleasure building at the base of his spine. He moaned gruffly, all thoughts replaced by _more_ and _fuck_ and _Stiles_.

Stiles burned a trail of kisses along Derek's jawline, creeping up to the base of his ear. The hot breath sent a shudder through him, making him squirm and pull Stiles closer to him instinctively. Stiles made a content sound as he licked experimentally at the lobe, sucking slightly and wrenching a grumbling moan out of Derek. “D'you like that?” Stiles asked, still stroking Derek's increasingly sensitive dick and nuzzling Derek's ear with his nose.

Derek didn't want to talk, didn't think that he even could. His jaw was locked into place as he struggled to maintain some semblance of composure. If he opened his mouth now all that would come out would be incoherent babbling, maybe he'd even pray Stiles's name.

So instead he just nodded.

Stiles smirked and flicked his tongue out again, causing Derek's breath to stutter. He was getting close to the edge now, his balls tightening as the pressure just kept building and building until Derek's vision began to blur from red to a haze, back to red again. Stiles's fingers were maybe the best things Derek had ever felt on him, skillfully pulling and twisting and working him at all the right angles. Sure, sometimes Stiles lost his rhythm, jerking to the beat of his own drum, but he always slowed back down to the same pace as Derek's thrusting hips.

Derek's climax hit him hard and sudden, at precisely the same time a clap of thunder rolled through the sky. The static in the air from the lightning bolt overhead intensified the sparking inside of Derek and for a long moment his vision went completely white. Stiles was saying something, his lips lazily moving against Derek's neck, but Derek's head was still buzzing with an overwhelming amount of pleasure, so he couldn't quite focus enough to make it out.

He was panting, his heart hammering away in his chest, and for a small moment whatever control Derek thought he had was lost as he sank into Stiles's arms and nuzzled in as close as he could get without submerging himself under Stiles's skin. He took a deep breath in; the scent of Stiles's mingling with his own fresh release was absolutely intoxicating.

They stood pressed together for a long while, not speaking a single word. Drops of rain fell from the sky, shattering the illusion of complete and utter stillness in the world around them, reminding Derek that he still had a pack to look after, and a shape shifting cub to figure out.

Stiles let out a sigh as soon as Derek lifted his head. “Back to the pack then?” He asked and Derek nodded. Stiles let out another breath and pursed his lips. “Alright, bedtime.” He pulled away from Derek and started into the trees, only pausing to wait for Derek to finish fixing himself back into his pants and cleaning himself off.

On the walk back to the camp site Stiles looked over his shoulder, smiling tentatively. “You were really cool with her y'know. The cub?” It was clear the boy was looking for something deeper, some reasoning to why a guy like Derek would ever show the soft side that he hid away from the rest of the world.

“She reminded me of my little cousin, Ella. I used to spend a lot of time with the kids when the adults were gone. Before I was old enough to go out during full moons I'd spend that time at home with my aunt, who was human, and the rest of the kids.” He explained and he felt Stiles's eyes remain fixated on him.

“Tell me about her.” Stiles said, though there was still a hint of hesitance, like he wasn't sure if it was out of bounds or not. Derek wasn't entirely sure either but if he was going to do this he wasn't going to hold back.

He smiled slightly to himself. “She was about Melanie's age, a little shorter though. And she took after her father, my aunt's husband, which is why she ended up with this deep red hair instead of the trademark dark browns that most of my family had. She did have our eyes though, and our stubbornness.” At that Derek chuckled, really considering how stubborn the women in his family had been. Headstrong and passionate. “She was really sweet, and she was the youngest wolf in our family.”

Derek saw Stiles nodding in the corner of his eyes. “Sounds like a total cutie.” Derek paused then, his heart speeding up ever so slightly.

“She was. Before Kate set her, and the rest of my family, on fire.” He could say it now without feeling like his entire chest was burning. The images ripped through his mind though, playing out behind his eyes and forcing him to look over at Stiles to refocus himself.

Stiles was grimacing, a hand reaching out to rest on Derek's forearm to comfort him. “Do you want to talk about it?” Derek _did_ want to talk about it, he just didn't know how. He didn't know how to let go of years and years' worth of regret. Didn't know how to force out the words, _I killed my family. It's my fault they're all dead. I let Kate in and she destroyed everything, and I have to live with knowing that my family would still be alive if I hadn't fallen in love with a monster. If I hadn't let her use me to get to them. How she almost got to Scott because of me too._

But he couldn't say it, not yet. No one knew. Not even Laura. She died thinking Derek was her precious, innocent little brother, the only one left that she could trust. And it was a lie. That broke him. “Maybe when there isn't rain pouring down on us, yeah?” Derek answered, grabbing Stiles's hand and pulling him into motion again.

The last thing he needed was Stiles getting sick because Derek had kept him out in the cold and rain to talk about feelings.

They made it back to the camp quickly to find that the rest of them were already all safely tucked away inside their tents, warm and dry. Stiles pulled back, his body going rigid as soon as they reached the break in the treeline. He pulled Derek close, and in a worried whisper asked, “Won't they smell it? I mean… y'know…” He trailed off and Derek had to suppress a smile.

“No, the rain did a pretty good job washing it away. Besides, mostly it's just mud and rain now. Not much else.” He explained and Stiles visibly deflated in relief.

“Can they hear us?” Stiles asked as Derek unzipped their tent and the both of them crawled into it, zipping it back up behind them. Derek raised an eyebrow.

“Maybe. Why?” He slipped off his soaking shirt and flung it into the corner. Before he got to his pants Stiles pounced on the opportunity and Derek wasn't sure how Stiles functioned on a daily basis when clearly his hormones dictated a lot of what he did.

“Read my mind.” Stiles teased and he peeled off his own shirt and reached to help Derek with his pants.

If he didn't do something to tire out the human boy, it was going to be a very, _very_ long night. Luckily for Derek he knew exactly how to fix that problem.


	19. Chapter 19

“Hello Stiles, what can I do for you today?” Deaton's voice was choppy with static, but at least Stiles had service. He paced along the road while Derek leaned against a tree nearby.

“What can you tell me about shape shifters; particularly any that may be in the Beacon Hills area right now?” It was a long shot but Stiles was really hoping there were still some secrets Deaton kept hidden from them. If Alan knew anything about the shape shifter pack it would really come in handy right about then.

Melanie hadn't exactly been very chatty when they'd waken up and their time was running short. There was only one day left for camping and then they'd have to return to Beacon Hills, and it was safe to say there wasn't really much room for a six year old child in their regular daily lives. Most of them still had school and Derek… well, Stiles didn't necessarily know what he did but probably something dangerous or boring and that was no environment for a kid.

It wasn't like they could just stay there either, camping out in the woods until they found her pack and returned her to them, but they also couldn't just leave her alone. If Deaton didn't have answers for them Stiles didn't know what they were going to do.

There was a sigh on the other side of the line. “I was worried you may… happen across Azael's pack. They usually don't venture too close to the road but I suppose these things just happen.” There was a pause and every second that ticked by in silence Stiles grew more and more agitated. “They didn't give you any hassle did they? They aren't known to be aggressive.”

“Okay, here's the thing. We haven't exactly come across _them_ so much as just one, but one that is small and harmless, and I found her lost and alone and afraid.” Stiles was on the verge of completely freaking out, his heart rate elevating and his breathing coming in shallower and shallower breathes. Suddenly Derek was by his side with a hand on Stiles's neck, rubbing soothing circles. “Do you know where they live? Or why one of their cubs would be completely alone in the middle of the forest?”

Deaton made an unhappy noise and Stiles felt his heart drop. “Azael and his pack are very private. They keep to the forest for the most part and I've only seen them when they had to bring in one of their members to treat an illness their natural herbs couldn't cure.” That was not good news. “Are you sure the child was lost? Has she said anything?”

Stiles grabbed Derek's hand and gave it a tight squeeze. “No, she hasn't said anything, but yes I'm positive she was lost. I found her trapped between this fallen log and a boulder, and she was crying out but whoever should've been there wasn't, 'cause it was only me. And all she's told us is her name, which is Melanie but any time we ask her about her pack she buries her face in my shirt and refuses to say anything.”

“And you've seen no sign of the pack otherwise?” Deaton asked, and there was something in his tone that made Stiles a little nauseous. His grip on Derek's hand tightened.

“No. Should we be looking for them? I think I remember where I found her, we could start there.” Stiles would hike through the entire forest if it meant getting the cub back safely to her family. Derek was staring at Stiles, an unreadable expression on his face.

“Is Derek with you right now?” Deaton asked, as if he could see the two of them right now. Stiles blushed a little.

“Uh, yeah. Why?” Stiles didn’t see how that really mattered.

“Pass the phone to him please.” He was going to object but Derek was already snatching the phone out of his hands and taking a large step away. Stiles made a move to grab it back but Derek's glare melted him into place.

And here Stiles thought he'd managed to work out all of Derek's broody frustrations last night.

Guess not.

“Deaton.” Derek said and Stiles strained to try and hear what was being said on the other line. All he could pick up was the low humming of Deaton's voice. He grumbled out his own frustrations but Derek completely ignored him. Finally he resigned to trying to interpret what Derek's facial reactions meant, his eyebrows were dropping lower and lower and that did not make Stiles feel better at all. “I see.”

“You see _what_?” Stiles whined and Derek glanced away from him.

“Are you sure?” Derek was growling, another terrible, terrible sign. “Fine. Call us back at around one with whatever you can find.” He hung up without saying goodbye and tossed the phone to Stiles who just barely managed to catch it.

“Oh my god dude, you can't just do that! One thing you should know about me by now, not very good with co-ordination okay? These hands!” He thrust them up and glared at them with spite and blame. Anytime he almost managed to figure out his limbs they managed to grow and screw him up all over again.

Derek took a step forward, and it would've been menacing if the look of pure lust wasn't on Derek's face. “I don't know Stiles, last night you seemed to handle yourself pretty well.” He grabbed at Stiles's butt and Stiles squealed (but he promises it was very manly).

“No, no, no! You are not gonna distract me from this situation! What did Deaton say?” Stiles swatted the hand away and Derek made a pouty face (and wow, Stiles hadn't ever seen Derek look so fucking adorable, it wasn't fair. How could he be sexy _and_ cute?). Stiles spluttered before pulling himself back together and ignoring the fact that apparently all werewolves seemed to have the puppy dog look down pat.

“If Melanie's pack hasn't found us yet there's a strong chance something bad has happened to them.” Derek paused, glancing nervously at Stiles, like he was afraid of how Stiles would respond to that. “Which is why I've decided we're cutting this trip short.” It wasn't up for debate. Stiles knew it wasn't.

He argued anyways. “What?” He shrieked and Derek flinched a little. “No way dude, there is no way we're gonna just leave without figuring this out.” There was a long moment of silence between them, the angst building as Derek's expression grew darker and darker, and Stiles felt his fists curling tighter.

“I didn't say we weren't going to figure it out. We will. I'll bring Boyd, Erica, and Danny back with me later and-,” Derek started but didn't get any further. Stiles planted himself firmly and pushed at Derek's chest.

“That's not how we should do this. We're a pack, Derek. We're doing this together.” Somehow his fist had uncurled itself and was now heavily resting on Derek's shoulder. Derek was eyeing it, a borderline homicidal sneer twisting his face.

“I know you like to talk a lot Stiles, but that doesn't mean I want you to talk _for_ me. You didn't even let me finish.” Derek grumbled and brushed Stiles's hand away. Shit. Stiles may have misread that a bit. “While the four of us scout the East end of the forest Scott will lead Jackson, Isaac, and Allison through the West part. Before I let any of that happen though we need to do a little more background digging, which is where you and Lydia come in. I need anything the two of you can find out about the forest and its layout.”

Stiles was a little astounded that Derek had put thought into this. “Seems like you've got it all planned out.”

“I do,” Derek replied darkly, walking back towards the trail that had led them to the side of the road. “If something's in this place that's strong enough to be an immediate danger to a whole pack of shifters we have to be ready. I'm not going to put any of you in unnecessary danger.” Stiles stumbled after him, slipping his phone back into his pocket, frowning.

“So wait, we're leaving but we're coming back? We're taking Melanie with us, right?” Stiles couldn't even think of leaving the cub behind. He'd tie himself to a tree and refuse to budge. Or, well, maybe something a little sturdier than that. And maybe not just tie. More like chain himself. Anything that would inhibit werewolf strength and ensure Stiles's prolonged presence in the forest.

“Deaton was acquainted with the pack, if anything she needs to see a familiar face right now.” And Derek was right about that, though Stiles had a distinct feeling Derek may have been speaking a little from experience, what with him being orphaned at a pretty young age, and Stiles _really fucking hoped_  Melanie wouldn't have to go through that sort of tragedy. “Once we drop her off there with him it'll give us a little more time to plan things out. Maybe she'll even tell him what happened.”

\---

Trying to convince Melanie to come with them didn't turn out going over as smoothly as Stiles had been hoping. After Derek tried, and Lydia, and Erica, and Danny, she clung to Stiles's leg with a vice grip, tears streaming down her face.

It was clear Derek was beginning to lose patience, and the fact that none of them had really eaten yet was probably wearing down everybody's nerves. Stiles rubbed soothingly at Melanie's back and she looked up at him with red, teary eyes.

“Stiles why can't we stay?” She asked, her lips quivering. He knelt down beside her so they could be at eye level. “I want to stay!” She whined and Stiles choked back the fountain of emotions welling up inside of him.

“We're not going very far, okay? And we're gonna find your parents and make sure they're safe. But first we gotta make sure _you're_ safe.” He didn't know how to put it into terms that a six year old child could agree with or make sense out of. This was her home and they were basically telling her that she had to leave it without her parents or any form of actual reassurance. They were complete strangers, but they were trying to help.

There were a couple more minutes of sobbing but eventually she wrapped her arms around Stiles's neck and allowed him to scoop her up into his arms. “I don't know where mommy went.” She buried her face into his shoulder as he carried her along behind the others. They'd be back to the vans before they knew it and headed straight for Deaton's.

“When did you see her last sweetie?” So far she hadn't said a single thing about her parents so he wasn't going to waste the opportunity. She pulled away, though still clinging tight around his neck.

“She went with Auntie and Aiden to check on daddy. She left me with Olivia.” She leaned in a little closer, her eyes going wide. “I don't like Olivia, she smells like cabbage.” She whispered and immediately reddened. “Mommy says I can't say that though, because it would hurt Olivia's feelings.”

“Where did Olivia go?” Stiles asked. Derek was glancing over his shoulder from all the way at the front of the group.

“She said that Jacob needed her help, and that I had to stay put and be quiet until my mommy came back for me.” Stiles was going to continue his questioning but saw that he eyes were growing watery again. He pulled her in close and gave her as much of a hug as he could while still walking.

They reached the road and began piling everything into the vans. Melanie regarded the cars with a mixture of horror, fascination, and caution. Stiles wondered if she'd ever seen a car before, or if she'd spent her entire life in the forest. It wasn't until they were beginning to get into the vans themselves that Erica pointed out the fact that they hadn't brought a child's seat with them.

“I’ll drive carefully.” Derek grumbled. He motioned for Stiles to join him in the front passenger seat but Melanie was still clinging onto him. His arms were beginning to ache a bit from holding her that entire time. He climbed into the back without a word, avoiding Derek's heated gaze, and let Melanie sit in his lap for the rest of the ride. When they started moving Melanie let out a squeak and dug her nails into Stiles's arm.

She looked out the window at the fast moving world around them with wide eyes and a hanging open mouth of awe. “Stiles! Look!” She pointed at everything all at once and squirmed excitedly. “Look! Look!” She pressed her hands up against the window, and Stiles was almost sure that in the next few seconds her nose was about to be pressed against the glass too.

When the trees started to disappear, replaced by signs and buildings, it was clear she really had never been outside of the forest. When they pulled into the clinic's driveway she was bouncing with eagerness. The van's side door slid open and she bounded out. Stiles scrambled after her, because they so didn't need to lose her after all of this.

Derek was already at the front door calling to Melanie and giving her a stern look. She stopped sniffing the bricks of the wall and looked over at him, frowning. Tentatively she obeyed and walked over, peering up at him. Stiles watched as she reached up and took a hold of his fingers. Derek looked a little confused.

Erica and Allison melted into _aww's_ and Danny smirked at the uncomfortable Derek. Stiles may have been the only one to notice the sudden softness behind Derek's gaze as Melanie tugged on his hand.

The other van pulled into the driveway and the rest of the pack piled out of it. They entered the clinic to find Deaton already waiting for them. As soon as Melanie sniffed the air her entire body seemed to spring to life. She darted away from Derek and leapt at Deaton.

“Uncle Alan!” She crowed and made grabby hands at him, standing on the tips of her toes and stretching up. Deaton smiled warmly at her and picked her up, resting her on his hips.

“Hello Melanie! Glad to see you're okay.” He nodded at Derek, who nodded in return before turning and facing the pack. Melanie began chattering away, though sticking to describing her excitement over the ride to his home rather than divulging any more information about her pack.

“What's that?” She pointed towards the van. Deaton answered her, explaining it was like a big metal bug that could carry people to places really fast.

This was a whole entire new world to her. Stiles could only imagine how scary it could be, and how amazing it all was. It was like when he was first introduced to the world of the supernatural.

There was a warm hand on the back of Stiles's neck, and before he knew it Derek was marching him out of the clinic and back towards the vans. “Are you sure she'll be safe with Deaton? Shouldn't I stay with her, just in case?” He tried but Derek raised an eyebrow at him.

“Relax. She seems happy to be with Alan, and he knows more about keeping her safe than we do. We need to focus on other things now.” Derek ordered and Scott made a sound of agreement as he walked next to them.

“Yeah, like food. I'm _starving_.” Scott added and Stiles could definitely be in favour of that.

“Okay, food first, then research?” Everyone nodded. With something in his stomach he'd be able to focus better on figuring this whole thing out for Melanie.

They made their way to the nearest diner, taking up about half of the small restaurant's seats. They chattered away, mostly everyday stuff, comments about how deliciously orgasmic the food was, but Stiles remained silent for the most part. If anyone noticed, no one said anything.

They dropped Stiles off at his house with his bags. His father wasn't home, and Stiles was sure he wouldn't be until late that night. He dragged himself up the stairs and into his room, not bothering to take his suitcase up with him. He fell right onto his bed, burying his face into his pillow and realizing just how little sleep he'd gotten the night before.

Because, yeah, he'd totally spent the entire night with Derek. It was nice, being together. Being open with each other. They didn't have to hold back anymore, not really.

And that's kinda how Stiles knew it'd all work out for them in the end. Derek needed someone to challenge him, and Stiles needed someone to keep him in check. They levelled each other out. Sure, it'd take a bit of time before the trust built a little more, but they were getting there.

The simple fact that Derek had agreed to help Melanie out because Stiles asked was proof that this whole thing wasn't just one-sided. And that made Stiles's heart ache in a really good way.

Before he knew it he was dozing off to the sweet memories of Derek's warm hands against his skin, sharing space and breaths and gentle touches. It was only a short nap, maybe an hour or so long, and it was dreamless, but when he awoke he felt recharged and ready to tackle Shapeshifting 101.

He hopped onto his laptop and pulled up Google, and the saved document of the Argent family bestiary. He was officially on the job.


	20. Chapter 20

When Stiles woke up the next morning, his head was throbbing. He'd managed to fall asleep still sitting in his desk chair, in an awkwardly painful position that had him cracking his back and neck just to get some relief. He'd barely gotten any sleep at all, spending half the night scouring the internet for any useful, viable information he could use, and the other half trying to decipher the bestiary's limited pages about shape shifters.

It was seven in the morning when his father came in to wake him up to get ready for school. The sun was too bright, his father's voice was too loud, and he was pretty sure his lack of sleep was what caused the aching in his head.

He dragged himself out of the chair and slipped into some clean clothes, brushed his teeth, grabbed a bite of toast, and was planning on being out the door quickly enough to avoid his father, but really, when did life ever give Stiles a break?

“That's an interesting bruise on your neck, son. Some people could even call it a massive hickey.” The sheriff leaned up against the wall by the front door, blocking Stiles's exit route. He could feel a blush trying to claw its way to the surface, but he willed it away by shrugging his shoulders and pretending like he had no idea what his father was talking about.

“You know, as fun as this conversation seems like it's going to be, I really have to get to school dad.” He tried to maneuver his way passed his father but his dad wasn't letting him off the hook that easily.

“Look Stiles, I understand you're at an age… where you want to experiment. And that's fine! I completely understand. Just… be careful, okay? It looks like your neck almost got sucked off.” The sheriff grimaced.

 _Nope, it was just my dick that got sucked off, dad. No big._ Stiles thought, and his father cringed at the sight of the mad smile painted on his son's face. “Don't worry dad, I'm always careful.” Stiles weaved around his father, losing his balance and tripping over his own feet. He was almost slamming head first into the door before his father caught his bag and pulled him steady.

“Yeah I can see that.” His dad shook his head, not sure how to deal with his son.

“I'll see you later!” Stiles smiled innocently and then raced out the door to his jeep, making a speedy getaway.

He arrived at the high school early, a little hyper and even clumsier than usual. He was obviously overtired, and his head was still pounding, but he popped a couple Advil and declared he was good to go. He managed to get through the entire school day without collapsing, and when the final bell rang and classes were let out he was back inside his jeep and on the way to the clinic.

He had to see Deaton; maybe the older, more seasoned man had found something about Melanie's family.

“Stiles!” Stiles heard his name being shrieked even before he opened the door to the Vet clinic. “Stiles! Stiles! _Stiles_!” The excitement grew as the squealing ball of energy barrelled into his legs, wrapping tiny arms around him.

“Hey cutie!” Stiles exclaimed, reaching down far enough for Melanie to grab onto his arms as he lifted her up. “Did you have fun with Uncle Alan?” Melanie nodded enthusiastically, almost knocking her head on Stiles's chin.

“He let me pet the doggies!” She shared with delight, a bright smile on her face.

“Oh yeah? Did you make some new friends?” Stiles asked and suddenly she was squirming to be put down. He lowered her to the ground and she instantly grabbed hold of his hand and started tugging him towards the kennels in the back.

“Maya's my favourite! She's got _so much fur_!” She slapped her hand to her face, like she was astonished by the idea that a dog could have so much hair. Stiles thought that was the most adorable thing he'd ever witnessed. As she led them away Stiles heard the front door of the clinic open, but they were already around the corner and out of view before he could see who it was.

They walked through the back rooms until they found the kennels where Melanie immediately let go of Stiles and raced towards one of the furthest cages. She pounced, landing on all fours, and suddenly she was shifting into her cougar form. Stiles _almost_ managed not to let out a surprised squeak. Almost.

“Oh-kay. Gonna have to try and get used to that.” He bit at his lower lip and walked over to her, his arms crossed over his chest. She pawed at the fence and a small puppy rushed over to greet her, yapping happily, tail wagging. If Stiles had to guess the dog was a Doberman pup. “So this is Maya?” Melanie's little body wriggled with excitement as she batted at the puppy through the fence.

“You can let her out, you know.” Deaton remarked as he walked in through the doorway. Scott followed in after, and behind him were Isaac and Derek. Stiles felt his heart skip a beat before he reached over and unlocked the cage. Maya sprang out, licking at Stiles's hands before Melanie pounced on her to get her attention.

“They're not gonna, like, hurt each other, are they?” Stiles asked, frowning with worry as he kept a close eye on how aggressive the playful nips were getting.

“No, definitely not. Melanie and the young Doberman get along quite well. I believe Melanie is used to playing with animals as well as others like her, so you have no reason to worry, Stiles.” Deaton smiled encouragingly and took a small step aside so that the others could enter the small space as well.

Scott and Isaac stopped at the doorway, but Derek walked straight over to where Stiles was standing, crossing his own arms and mirroring Stiles's protective stance. “She's pretty strong for a cub.” Derek observed. Melanie had Maya pinned, playfully gnawing on the pup’s ear. Deaton nodded.

“Yes, shifters are more alike to your kind than you may believe. You could even think of them as cousins. They may not have the same physical abilities but they make up for it in other ways. For example, werewolves don't actually change into full wolf form, whereas shifters develop two specific shapes they can transform into. So, they may not be as strong or as fast, but they do tend to be a little more adaptable.” Deaton explained.

“Wait, but I thought we saw Peter shift into his Alpha werewolf form? And Derek's been trying to learn to as well?” Scott asked. Stiles had been wondering the exact same thing.

Deaton shook his head. “What you saw Peter change into wasn't an animal. It's true that the Alpha can take on a more wolfish appearance, but it's more beast than animal.” Derek looked a little perturbed by that.

“What's the difference?” Stiles needed to know, for research purposes, obviously.

“The difference is that when a shapeshifter takes on a new form, it becomes the animal almost completely, though it's fair to say that their intelligence and mind remains intact. It's still part human, but its base instincts are mostly primal. They'll react to things as other animals would. Beasts, on the other hand, _do_ maintain their humanity, but what's left of it is somehow altered and twisted. Whatever emotions the werewolf is feeling at the time of the shift increase drastically. Another reason why Alphas seek a pack is because the members help in keeping the Alpha focused and in control. Beasts are an entirely different classification of species.” Deaton finished and the glances he was casting in Derek's direction weren't subtle at all.

Stiles could sense Derek's aggravation permeating off of him in waves of heat and decided to change the subject. “Right. Okay, so, did you manage to get a hold of any of Melanie's pack mates?” He asked casually. Deaton's brow furrowed, which wasn't a good sign.

“I believe that's a question better answered in a more… private setting.” He was looking at Melanie, who was momentarily peering up at Stiles with a tilt in her head. Maya took the opportunity to scramble away from Melanie, creating enough distance between them before taunting the cub with her yaps. Melanie's tail swished angrily a few times before she jumped around and sprang at the puppy's pointed ears.

“Scott and Isaac, you two stay here. Stiles you're with Deaton and I. Lead the way.” Derek nodded at Deaton and the two of them disappeared through the door where they'd entered from. Stiles watched the two creatures happily playing at his feet for a moment longer before joining Derek, trusting Scott and Isaac to look after them while he was in the other room.

When he walked into Deaton's office he closed the door behind him and turned to face the other two. “Please tell me you have _some_ good news.” Stiles said before Deaton could even open his mouth. The sad smile that rose to the older man's lips didn't make Stiles feel any better.

“Unfortunately the only thing I was able to dig up was a news article released last night, in the next county over. As far as I can tell, it's anything but good news.” He was typing on his computer, pulling up the saved tab of the online newspaper. Stiles peered over Deaton's shoulder, skimming through it as Deaton scrolled downwards. When they hit the bottom of the article there was a grisly picture of a couple of mountain lions, their throats shredded.

“You think they're shifters?” Derek asked, staring hard at the picture. Stiles could feel his hands starting to shake.

“I hoped at first it was just a coincidence, but I called a friend of mine who works in the police department there, and she told me that the blood samples they took off the victims had unnatural traces of _human_. On top of that, the wounds that the cougars suffered were… interesting.” Deaton looked perplexed.

“Interesting? What do you mean by _interesting_?” Stiles asked, his voice coming out strained and a little too loud.

“The claw markings, and the way the cougars seemed to be… choked to death… indicate that a larger animal killed them, one that isn't native to America.” Deaton pulled open another tab, typing quickly into the search engine, and pulled up another picture. This one was just as gruesome, and seemed to have similar killing patterns as the last one. “See here?” He pointed to the dead thing's neck. “It may not have been as violent, but the antelope suffered the same asphyxiation.”

Stiles frowned as he quickly burned through all the information he knew about antelopes. Mostly all he could remember was that he'd seen quite a few of them in Lion King. “So you're telling me that whatever killed this antelope - an animal that lives in… okay, somewhere in Africa - you're saying that it's the same thing that killed these cougars? How is that possible?” Stiles was fairly certain there weren't any lions in America, not legally anyways.

Deaton let out a long breath of air. “Perhaps not the same thing, but definitely identical, which means we have a bit of a mystery on our hands, now don't we?” He looked up and met Stiles's hard stare. “For now I believe that whatever we do, we proceed with caution. Melanie can stay with me for now, while you do whatever you need to do to figure out what happened to the rest of her pack. You'll be looking for her mother, three of her cousins, and her aunt. The pack wasn't large, it made it easier for them to remain unnoticed for as long as they lived within the surrounding areas of Beacon Hills.”

Derek tilted his head. “They've been here for a while? But I've never smelled them before.” Deaton shrugged.

“They kept to themselves, and before the fire Azael and Hunter, Melanie's mother and father, had an arrangement with your parents, Derek. They'd remain within their own territory, and your kind would let them be in peace.” Deaton explained, and at the mention of the fire Derek's visibly darkened.

“Hold on, Melanie's father? Do you know where he is?” Stiles let himself hope, just for a moment.

“Yes. He's dead. Last year there was an unfortunate accident involving Mr. Argent. Hunter didn't manage to make it out alive.” That sounded vaguely familiar to Stiles…

“Parent-teacher night? In the parking lot? That cougar was a shifter?” Stiles flashed back to that night, his father almost getting run over, Mr. Argent standing in the middle of the parking lot, gun raised and smoking. He felt light headed. “And it was… it was Melanie's _dad_? Are you fucking kidding me?”

Deaton was grimacing, obviously apologetic. “I'm afraid not, Stiles. When the father of the pack died, they seemed to withdraw further from me. I only saw them on special occasions after that, certain ceremonies that required my presence in case of injury.” Stiles wondered what kind of _ceremonies_ Deaton was talking about, but he'd have time to worry about that later.

Right now he had to focus on figuring out what their next move should be.

Derek was silent where he stood, one hand worrying at his chin as he thought deeply about something. “So you know where they lived?” He asked, and the question seemed to stress Deaton out a little bit.

“Yes, but I promised them I'd never reveal their location. I suppose I have no choice now though.” He crossed over to the shelves on the wall and pulled out a folded map. “I can bring you there, but I can't guarantee that it's safe. If the pack is in fact still alive, they'll likely be hostile. If something's happened to them… well the same could happen to you, if you're not careful.”

Derek was silent again, contemplating. Finally he nodded. “It's worth it. We need to find the rest of her family, and if there's something out there killing shifters... I don't want to risk ignoring the problem until it starts hunting werewolves next. We can head out as soon as the pack's ready to go tomorrow, once they're finished with classes.” He paused, looking at Stiles. “You'll stay here with her.” He ordered and Stiles opened his mouth to protest but Derek let out a low growl. “You, Allison, Jackson, and Danny will keep an eye on her while Scott, Isaac, Boyd, Erica, Lydia, and I will go with Deaton and see if there's anything that'll help shed some light on the situation.”

“What, so you're putting me on babysitting duty?” Stiles was not being put in the corner! _Nobody puts baby in the corner!_

“I'm keeping you safe.” Derek's voice suddenly softened, and Stiles just didn't know what to even _do_ with that. Deaton looked them over for a moment before supressing a smile and swiftly removing himself from the room.

“I don't need you to keep me safe. I'm pack, right? So let's all do this together.” He tried, but the softness in Derek's eyes was getting to him. Stiles knew what the outcome of this argument would be.

“Yeah, you're pack. You're also the one who found her, practically begged me to let her stay, so now she's _your_ responsibility. We're going to make sure that she's safe, and that she's still got a family to go home to. But for us to do that we have to cooperate, and right now that means you staying here, looking after the cub while I take a group to search for her family.” During his speech he'd crossed the room and was currently standing directly in front of Stiles.

Stiles pouted, not wanting to admit defeat, but then Derek's eyes were drawn to the slight pucker of his lips, and instead he smirked. “Fine, I'll agree to stay, but only because Melanie is adorable, and also because,” and then he was kissing Derek.

It was soft and sweet, and too short. When he pulled away Derek's eyes were still closed. And he was beautiful. So, just this once, Stiles wouldn't argue.


	21. Chapter 21

The cabin didn't look very ominous. Everything about it seemed ordinary – a bit of hunting gear, some chopped wood out on the front lawn, and it was relatively small for a place that housed an entire pack of shifters. Even the scent was unremarkable; there was only a bit of the shifter smell left, but it wasn't too potent. It was subtle, almost impossible to pick out from the rest of the forest's smells.

Despite it looking so _quiet_ , there was definitely something eerily wrong with the whole thing. Derek was waiting for Scott or Isaac to pick up on it, but they were leaning against nearby trees; Isaac was picking at some grass in his hands, and Scott was idly staring up at the sky.

Absolutely useless.

“Are you planning on actually doing something today? Or are you gonna chase the cloud bunnies Scott?” Derek asked sourly, glaring until Scott looked over at him.

“Cloud bunnies?” Scott asked, frowning. Derek sighed, fixing his attention back on the cabin. Scott crouched down beside him, and shortly after Isaac followed suit. “I don't think anyone's in there.” Not a difficult deduction to make.

“How long did it take you to figure that out?” Derek asked with a snark that could've rivalled Peter's. Scott grew quiet. Next Derek turned his attention towards Isaac. “Can _you_ tell me something useful?” He asked, and Isaac opened his mouth like he was going to say something but then slammed it shut and shook his head rigidly.

“So if no one's in there why aren't we, y'know, getting closer? Getting a better look at the place? Aren't the rest of them surveying the surrounding area? I'm sure they'll let us know if they find anything.” Scott said, but hesitated making a move while Derek was staring flatly at him like that.

“Sure, they'll let us know if anyone's coming back.” Derek said, a faint dryness in his tone. It wasn't the coming back that Derek was acutely aware of and therefore cautious of.

Isaac perked up. “But what if whoever it is doesn't need to come back? What if they left something behind?” Scott nodded, cluing in.

“Like a trap.” He said, and looked a little sharper at the cabin. He paused, taking a moment to think. Derek waited patiently, starting to see the recognition lighting up Scott's eyes. “It's _too_ quiet, there aren't even any birds around.”

“Exactly. The greatest threats are rarely what you expect them to be.” Derek added and ignored the wary glances both boys shot at him. “We'll approach with caution.” Derek stated and slowly made his way out of the safety of the trees. He walked carefully, lowering himself a little. His claws and fangs were extended, and he allowed the Alpha vision to aid him in scanning the area as he moved closer, but he didn't wolf out completely.

When he got to the porch of the cabin he stopped and the other two behind him came to a halt as well. He tilted his head to try and pinpoint the small creak he'd just heard. It could've been nothing; just a simple groan of the old wood in the wind, but in Derek's experience it was usually never nothing.

He nodded to the side of the house and Isaac gave a small nod back. The younger boy crept along the porch and disappeared around the corner. Next Derek motioned for Scott to go around the other side, which Scott obeyed and silently made his way around too. Derek walked up to the front door, which was hanging slightly open. Not exactly a comforting sign.

He pushed it open slowly; taking his time and making sure all his movements were silent and swift. He crept through the house, keeping his heart beat steady and breathing as quietly as he could. The inside of the cabin was crowded; it was obvious that it was normally thoroughly lived in by multiple inhabitants. There was clothing strewn across random places, toys and papers scattered across the floor, and there was a clutter of books and other various items that gave the little structure a sense of _home_.

Derek sniffed, hoping to catch a whiff of something useful, but instead got a powerful scent of Melanie. He followed it into one of the rooms, which obviously belonged to children. There were bunk beds pushed up against the wall and drawings on sheets of papers tacked up by the window. What caught his attention the most was the small stuffed teddy bear resting on the only unmade bed. He picked it up and immediately felt like he was invading on something very personal.

It had obviously meant a lot to Melanie; its one eye was missing and its fur was matted and rough, coated in dirt and the scent of pine from the forest. She must've taken it everywhere with her.

“Derek, Scott, I think I might've found something.” Isaac's voice was muffled; he was still somewhere outside, but Derek followed it easily, stuffed bear still in hand. He rounded to the back of the house to see Isaac and Scott standing over a pair of cellar doors in the ground, both of the boys wore a look of confusion. “It won't open.”

Derek approached and knelt down, resting a hand on top of the old wooden door at his feet. It looked seemingly ordinary, but there was something deeper that Derek could just barely feel. A repulsion.

He stood back up and reached into his back pocket to retrieve his phone. The other boys were silent as he quickly dialed and held the phone to his ear. “Please tell me you found something.” Lydia answered, skipping the unnecessary hellos and getting right to the point.

“We did, and I need you or Allison to come help us out with it.” The doors were made out of mountain ash; any werewolf that tried to get in would be repelled.

There was a slight pause on the other end of the line. “I'll be there in five minutes.” Lydia replied and ended the call. Derek looked down at the phone and silently contemplated reaching out to Stiles, but he decided it would be better if he messaged Stiles when they knew for sure that they'd found something. False hope would only make things even more frustrating.

He slid his phone back into his pocket and the three of them waited quietly for Lydia to arrive. Derek knew the exact moment of her approach; she was quiet but she was still human, her footsteps still not completely silent as she moved through the forest's underbrush.

They all walked around to the front of the house to greet her, but she waved them off and crossed her arms impatiently. “What did you find?” She asked, clearly not in the mood for lollygagging.

“We need you to open a door for us.” He motioned towards the back of the house and led the way to where the cellar doors were. Lydia scrutinized them for only a moment before side glancing at Derek.

“Mountain Ash?” She asked, but she already knew she was right. Derek nodded and she reached down to grasp the handles. “Be ready.” She said, and the three werewolves extended their claws, preparing themselves for whatever lay beyond the doors. She counted to three and then pulled the doors open.

Immediately Derek's senses were overwhelmed by the stench that rolled out of the cellar as soon as it was allowed escape from the closed-in, stale room. Lydia was screeching and backing away from the doors, pure horror sending her heart beating too fast in her chest.

Derek didn't have to look to know what they'd found. Dry blood and rotting flesh tainted the air as soon as the doors were released. Isaac gagged, doubling over and covering his mouth and nose with his arm. Scott was tense and already wolfed out. Derek took a deep breath of whatever fresh air was left and held on to it tightly as he took his first step into the cellar.

There was a trail of old blood on the wooden stairs; hand prints and smears leading all the way down to the bottom. When he reached the cold concrete floor of the room he paused and closed his eyes, preparing himself for what would come next. He reached up and grabbed the string hanging from the ceiling, tugging it to turn on the bare light bulb.

When he opened his eyes he froze; all the air rushing out of his lungs in an audible gasp.

He was standing in the middle of what had been a complete and total slaughter.

There were four bodies in total; three adults and one _child_. A fucking _kid_. Derek didn't want to look too closely at the shredded corpses, but he had to. Whatever had done this to them was still out there, so if he was going to face that he had to face this. Remember this. Remind himself not to underestimate the threat they were now facing.

He knelt down beside the small, still body in the corner of the bloodstained room. The child looked to be about the same age as Melanie, had the same dark blonde hair. Her eyes were closed – without the blood and gore she could've been sleeping peacefully. The fact that her throat had been crushed was a constant reminder that whatever peace she might've had once was completely gone; her death had been slow and painful.

Derek pulled away just as the numbness of shock and denial seeped deep inside of him. As he scanned the rest of the scene it all looked too surreal, like it was a nightmare instead of harsh reality. He didn't remain there any longer than he had to. He collected what evidence he could – which really wasn't that much – and headed back up the stairs to report his findings back to the others.

“Four dead, all killed the same way. Their throats were either crushed or shredded – there's blood everywhere. Nothing much else. Claw marks and bite marks; Deaton will have a better idea about it than any of us would. I'll give him a call.” Even to Derek his voice sounded a lot gruffer than it usually did.

Scott reached a hand out and rested it on Derek's arm, giving it a tight squeeze. “You okay?” He asked. Derek looked away, let his eyes shift out of focus.

“I'm fine. You guys head back into town, and let the others know it's not safe to be out here anymore, not until we find out more.” He paused and met Scott's worried gaze. “Call Stiles, get him to take Melanie back to my apartment. It might be the only place that she'll be safe.” Derek wouldn't let her get hurt, even if it meant going head to head with whatever monster had ravaged her family.


	22. Chapter 22

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for your patience and kindness. Finally here is the next chapter.
> 
> Just a note about one of the character's names: little dude was dubbed "Thalia", but that was before I found out that Derek's mom's name was Talia... so to distance myself from any confusion I've re-named her "Melanie".

Derek pulled into the Vet clinic’s parking lot just as Stiles was pulling out, Boyd in the seat next to him, and Melanie and Erica in the back. When their eyes met Stiles gave Derek a curious look, but Derek tore his gaze away, looking straight ahead at the clinic.

The moment he parked his phone started ringing, and one glance at the screen informed him that Erica was calling on Stiles’s behalf to demand an explanation. He thought about ignoring the call, but he knew how persistent Stiles could be, and how easily he would wear down Erica and Boyd’s patience.

With a sigh he mustered up enough willpower to answer.

“Erica.” He said, his tone clearly unimpressed.

“Derek.” Erica’s voice was equally as indifferent, but the level of sass was unmistakable. “Are you going to tell us why we’re bringing Melanie to your apartment? Isn’t it safer for her to stay with Deaton?”

Derek didn’t want to tell them over the phone while Melanie may or may not be able to eavesdrop on the conversation. “Just do as I say. Please.” He sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose to alleviate the automatic stress headache beginning to flood his brain.

He could hear Stiles in the background, “He better not be dodging your questions.” After a moment, and what Derek assumed was a flat look from Erica, Stiles groaned. “Why can’t he just tell us?”

“We have to trust him, Stiles.” Boyd answered, and there was a huff of a sigh from Erica.

“Fine, whatever. We’ll stay at the apartment until you get there Derek. And by then you’ll need something better than, _just do as I say_ , as an explanation.” After that she hung up the phone and Derek hung his head in exhaustion.

After a few minutes to himself he made his way into the clinic where Deaton was waiting for him.

When Deaton looked up Derek immediately noted the pale disposition the vet wore. With a heavy sigh Deaton motioned Derek into the back room to where Deaton had his computer set up. On the screen were the photos of the shape shifters that Derek sent from his phone.

Even in high-quality resolution, there was still an element of numbness – Derek’s brain trying to cope with the gore meant blurring it out as much as possible.

“Whatever did this…” Deaton trailed off, looking as deeply disturbed as Derek felt. He shook his head, looking away from the screen to pin Derek with a dark look. “You need to eliminate it.”

Derek nodded. He was in total agreement. A threat this big needed to be put down. For the safety of everyone.

“We need to start training harder.” Derek stated, and Deaton’s silence was affirmation. “You need to start teaching Lydia and Stiles everything you know.”

“Everything?” Deaton asked, raising an eyebrow. Derek hesitated, but finally nodded.

“They’re as much a part of this as any of us, now.” Derek didn’t like the idea; humans were fragile, easily breakable. But Lydia and Stiles had shown enough resolve to garner trust and reliance.

Deaton was silent for a moment, absently stroking his chin and staring blankly at the floor. “You realize that some of the knowledge I pass down… can be seriously dangerous. It will burden them.”

“I realize that. It’s… necessary.” Derek replied. He bottled up the fear and swallowed the worry.

“Well then. We’ll start first thing tomorrow, after school lets out.” Deaton smiled. Derek wasn’t sure if the twist in the vet’s lips was pained, but before he could analyze Deaton’s expression, he turned and left to attend to the caged animals in the back.

\---

When Derek reached his apartment building he spent several long moments in silence, collecting himself so that his composure didn’t give anything away to his pack mates. Once he was ready he left the sanctuary of his car and headed in.

On his way up to the apartment, he crossed paths with Boyd and Erica. Boyd looked relatively calm, but Erica was up in Derek’s face the moment he walked through the doors.

“What’s going on? I called Allison, she said you guys found something, but she wouldn’t tell us what. Why isn’t it safe to go out into the woods?” She asked, but didn’t wait for an answer. “We deserve to know, y’know? Stiles trusts you, we all do, so please trust us.”

Derek waited until she was done to rest his hands on her shoulders, giving them a gentle squeeze. “The situation is sensitive, which is why I haven’t been straightforward with you. If Melanie finds out the wrong way…” He paused and the two waited, watching expectantly for him to explain. He gathered himself, reminded himself that he had to be stronger. “Melanie’s family was slaughtered in the cellar of their cabin in the woods.”

There was a long moment of silence. Boyd visibly winced, but Erica’s jaw tightened as her eyes grew wide with surprise. Derek waited for them to absorb it before he spoke again.

“We don’t know what we’re dealing with. Whatever it is, it wasn’t affected by mountain ash. Deaton’s defense wouldn’t hold out against it, so the safest place for her to be right now is here with half a dozen werewolves protecting her.” Derek explained, and Erica and Boyd quietly nodded. “Once we have a better idea about the danger we can come up with a better plan for dealing with Melanie. For now we just have to keep her safe.”

“Alright.” Boyd agreed, taking a step forward. “Erica and I will stay here tonight then, and we’ll work out a shift system with the other wolves.”

After a small pause Erica bit her lower lip. “Derek, why are we doing this?” Derek frowned, tilting his head at her in question. “She’s cute and innocent, I know, but she’s not… she’s not our problem. She’s not a part of our pack. She’s not even a werewolf.”

Derek thought about it for a moment, because as much as he hated it he knew that the points she made were perfectly valid. He also knew the difference between right and wrong, and it was definitely wrong to abandon Melanie, especially now that her entire family was gone. Maybe something deep inside Derek could relate and empathize. Maybe he just wanted to do the right thing.

“She’s still our responsibility. Even if we didn’t know her or her family before, we know her now and we know what happened to her family. Whatever killed them is dangerous, and it’s in our territory. Nothing hunts on our territory without answering to us. Understand?” Derek asked, and Erica remained silent, nodding quietly. “Good. I’m going upstairs now.”

\---

“Stiles?” Derek called out, sensing Stiles’s presence was near. He delved deeper into his apartment, scanning the area in search of Stiles or Melanie.

Suddenly Stiles appeared at the top of the iron spiral staircase, Melanie wrapped around his leg as she peered through the railing down at Derek. She was frowning, watching him carefully.

Seeing her brought the visions fresh back into his mind – her entire family slaughtered in the cellar of her home. It was all he could do to stop himself from scooping her up in his arms and holding her tight against him, shielding her from the harsh reality that she was the only one left of her family.

Just like Derek.

“Hey,” Stiles greeted, breaking the unsettling silence. He wore a look of worry – he sensed something was wrong. If Derek was delivering good news he wouldn’t be staring up at Melanie with a forlorn look of utter sympathy and sadness.

Good news would have been Melanie’s parents alive and well, waiting just outside to reclaim her and bring her back to her childhood home. But they weren’t there, and Melanie no longer had a home.

Derek motioned for them to come down and join him with a nod of his head. Stiles scooped Melanie up in his arms and descended the stairs, attempting to level a look at Derek that Derek couldn’t bring himself to meet.

He reminded himself that he needed to be strong – Alpha’s were the backbone of a pack. His duty was first and foremost putting his feelings aside for the greater wellbeing of his pack. So he stiffened his jaw and met Stiles’s questioning gaze with a hard look of his own.

“Melanie’s going to have to stay with me for a while.” Derek said, his voice barely shaking. He looked at Melanie, saw the hesitance in her eyes. He smoothed out his features, smiling as warmly as he could at her. “If that’s alright with you, Melanie.” He paused, crossing the room to where he’d tossed a bag upon first entering the apartment. He reached in and grabbed out the teddy bear he’d acquired from her house.

When she saw it she instantly brightened – squirming in Stiles’s arms until he was forced to put her down. The moment her feet touched the floor she was bounding over to Derek, her arms outstretched as she made grabby hands at the stuffed animal.

“Teddy!” She cooed, making pleading eyes at Derek. He handed it to her gingerly and she wrapped her arms around it, beaming brightly. After a moment she flung her arms around Derek’s waist, hugging him tightly.

At first Derek was taken by surprise, but it was easy to accept a hug from someone with as warm a disposition as Melanie. He smiled down at her, fending off the growing pain that pulled at his heart. He patted her head and then looked over at Stiles.

Stiles still looked worried, and he was staring at Derek with a questioning gaze. Derek mouthed the word _later_ to Stiles, and though the furrow in his brow was one of frustration, Stiles nodded stiffly.

“Hungry?” Derek asked, and Melanie nodded, her head bumping against Derek with the action. He smiled, patting her back a few times before nodding towards the staircase. “I’ll make us all something to eat then.” He paused, glancing over to where Stiles was still giving him a flat look. “You wanna take Melanie upstairs and settle down in front of the television while I get busy in the kitchen?”

Stiles blinked. “You have a kitchen?”

Derek scoffed, rolling his eyes. If Stiles had come around more often, maybe he’d know that Derek didn’t exactly live in squalor.

After a moment of silence Stiles crossed the room and rested his hands on Melanie’s shoulders, guiding her away from Derek and towards the stairs. Halfway there he paused, throwing another suspicious look at Derek. “ _You can cook_?”

“Just go watch TV, Stiles.” Derek growled. With a sigh Stiles complied, leading Melanie up the stairs and leaving Derek alone with his thoughts.

He wandered through his apartment until he reached the kitchen. Despite Stiles’s belief, Derek had spared no expense in acquiring the best cooking appliances, even though his apartment was otherwise minimalistic.

He allowed the mind-numbing routine of gathering ingredients and pans to distract him from his thoughts. He settled into the muscle memory of preparing everything – he was hardly a savant, but he knew his way around the kitchen.

The spaghetti he ended up making with his grandmother’s homemade red sauce recipe smelled mouth-wateringly amazing. Before the noodles were fully cooked both Stiles and Melanie had found their way into the kitchen, their noses in the air and stomachs grumbling eagerly.

“Pasta?” Stiles asked, propping his chin over Derek’s shoulder to get a better look at the stove. Derek chuckled, pushing Stiles away with his shoulder half-heartedly.

“Spaghetti. Family recipe. Should be ready soon.” The timer on the stove said three minutes for al dente, but Stiles was apparently too impatient to wait that long. He opened Derek’s fridge and began rummaging around, which Derek didn’t entirely appreciate. He left the stove and loomed over Stiles, grabbing him by the hips and steering him towards the small table in the corner that had a sparse number of chairs surrounding it.

Melanie followed, plopping herself down in the only other available seat. “‘Paghetti?” She asked excitedly, wiggling in her chair.

“Yeah, you ever have it before?” Stiles asked and she nodded enthusiastically.

“Mama makes spa‘paghetti all the time! Mama says that it makes you nice and strong if you eat all your vegetables and wheats!” She flexed her arms and Stiles chuckled, flexing his own arms in turn to make her giggle.

Derek served them the food, cutting Melanie’s noodles up to make it easier for her to chew. Stiles watched him the whole time, an obvious expression of admiration in his eyes that made Derek feel uncomfortably exposed but pleasantly warm at the same time.

After they all ate – Stiles and Melanie sitting at the table together, Derek leaning against the counter – it was beginning to grow dark outside and Melanie’s eyelids were closing every so often. With a big yawn she pushed her plate away, making small grumbling noises. “All done.” She exclaimed sleepily, rubbing at her stomach and then at her eyes.

Derek left Stiles to clean up while he brought Melanie up to his bed and tucked her in. At first she strained against the idea of sleep, but considering how long a week it had been for her, she settled down the moment her head hit the pillow. She snuggled the teddy bear close to her, and Derek left quietly to rejoin Stiles in the kitchen.

Derek watched him for a while as his hands worked to clean the dishes in the sink, but finally spoke when he felt that his presence has finally been noticed. “Melanie’s asleep.” He paused but Stiles didn’t say anything. “We went to her family’s house today. The place was deserted. We found… Her family was slaughtered.”

Stiles’s hands froze mid-scrub as he turned to pin Derek with a dark look. “By what?”

“We don’t know. All we know is what Deaton told us about the South African origin, and that whatever it was isn’t stopped by mountain ash.” Derek replied, still frustrated by their lack of preparedness and knowledge. Stiles nodded to himself before he went back to the dishes.

After a long silence he said, “Whatever it is, we’re going to hunt it down and make it pay.”

“We are.” Derek agreed.

“Good.” Stiles said. His voice was cold and Derek didn’t like how empty it sounded, but he understood. “What’s going to happen with Melanie?”

“For now she’s staying with me. Once we sort it all out we can figure it out from there. Things are going to change around here.” Derek said, leaning against the wall. “We’re going to start training. Deaton’s going to help you and Lydia prepare for what comes next.”

Stiles looked over his shoulder at Derek with a curious frown. “What comes next?”

Derek was dark. “We have to be prepared for anything. That means sacrificing certain things for survival. We can’t hesitate. Something deadly is coming our way, Stiles. It’s already at our doorstep.”

“Then we’ll do whatever’s necessary.” Stiles said quietly. “If we have to be more deadly, then we will.” He dropped the dish he was working on and crossed the room to face Derek. “No more fucking around.”

“No more fucking around.” Derek agreed, and slid his hands around Stiles’s waist while Stiles slid his arms around Derek’s neck. They embraced for a long moment before Stiles pulled away and gave Derek a silent kiss on the lips.

“I’ll see you tomorrow.” He murmured before heading out of the apartment, leaving Derek alone with Melanie sleeping soundlessly upstairs.

With Stiles on board the others would follow suit, and the pack would get serious about their training, hopefully.


	23. Chapter 23

“The fuck-?!” Isaac barely managed the words out before something slammed hard into the back of his head and sent him spiralling. A padded arrow fell to the forest floor beside him, its tip a vibrant orange. The paint had splattered the back of his head, marking the exact location the arrow had targeted.

“Gotta be faster than that, Lahey,” Allison chirped in her singsong voice as she skipped over to him, retrieving her arrow. Isaac waited until she got close enough and then struck, sweeping her legs out from underneath her. Just as she was about to hit the ground, a blur exploded from the bushes nearby and suddenly Scott was dipping Allison gracefully, saving her from a hard fall. “My hero.”

The two were so enraptured by each other that they didn’t even notice when Isaac got up, brushed himself off, and walked away. He grumbled to himself as he made his way all the way through the forest and back to the Hale house. Halfway there he got tackled to the ground.

“Aww, you’re already dead?” Erica whined, grabbing the back of Isaac’s head where Allison’s paint mark had already dried. “Waste of my time.” She muttered, hoisting herself up by pushing Isaac’s face into the ground. Isaac took a deep breath, smothering the initial instinct to counter her attack with one of his own. He’d already lost the game.

Isaac wasn’t sure why Derek thought paint tag would be constructive, but it was his call and everyone else seemed to be on board.

“Allison already tagged me.” Isaac groused, lifting himself off the ground and brushing off the new coating of dirt on his clothing. He shouldn’t have worn his nice, new khakis.

“Well now _I_ tagged you. You died twice. Be better Isaac.” She patted his arm and then went on her way, deeper into the forest. Isaac let out a huff of agitated breath, continuing his journey back to the house with a defeated slump weighing his shoulders down.

When he finally reached the edge of the forest, he could see Derek leaning against his car reading a magazine. Isaac made his way over, hoping to retain some dignity but feeling a failure. Upon his approach Derek looked up, frowning slightly.

“It’s been five minutes.” Derek set his magazine aside. His eyes narrowed with incredulity when he saw the multiple paint splatters. “Who got you?”

Isaac looked down at his feet, his face flushing with embarrassment. “Allison.” He pointed to the back of his head, and then to his back. “Erica.” Derek snorted.

“The ladies aren’t taking any prisoners.” He smirked and Isaac pouted. “Good for them.” He pushed off from his car and motioned with a nod of his head for Isaac to follow him. He led them around to the back of the house where a table was set up with an assortment of training supplies. “Choose a weapon. If you’re having trouble honing your senses, maybe you need a medium.”

Isaac frowned, feeling handicapped. “Isaac can’t werewolf so let’s make him into an axe murderer.” He picked up what looked to him like an axe – same wooden handle but curved blade at the end. Derek raised an eyebrow.

“That’s a sickle.” He fixed Isaac with a dry look.

“Grim Reaper then, whatever.” Isaac mumbled and set the hooked blade aside. “I don’t even know what half these things are. How am I supposed to use any of them?” Already feeling defeated by the belief he was useless to the rest of the pack, Isaac looked to his feet, so he missed the agitated look that crossed Derek’s face.

“Isaac, look at me.” Derek commanded, and even though Isaac didn’t want to, he couldn’t resist an order from his Alpha. He looked up and met Derek’s penetrating gaze with a meek, uncomfortable smile. “You can do this. You are fully capable of learning and being productive because you’re a smart kid. The only thing standing in the way is your own negativity and the voice in your head that’s telling you you’re nothing. Don’t listen to that voice, listen to me.”

Isaac swallowed hard, shying away from Derek’s abrasive manner. He didn’t know what to do. He felt helpless, but Derek having faith in him lightened some of the weight he felt on his chest.

“Now, choose whichever one you think you might like using. Something built for close combat, ranged, defensive, whatever. It doesn’t matter. What matters is that it feels right to you.” Derek took a step away, motioning towards the table again.

With a deep breath Isaac mustered his energy and re-examined the display of deadly things laid out in front of him. He took his time, picking up the ones he thought he might like, weighing them in his hands to see if the distribution and balance felt like the right fit for him. Derek waited patiently and silently, his presence more of a comfort than an intimidation.

Finally, Isaac settled on the sleek, black throwing knives.

Derek made a thoughtful sound in the back of his throat, but said nothing else. He motioned for Isaac to begin practicing against the marked targets near the treeline.

The first throw landed somewhere in the bushes to the far left of his intended target. The next one clipped the side of a tree and lodged itself into the ground. Isaac let out a grunt of irritation.

“Knives aren’t baseballs, Isaac.” Suddenly Chris Argent appeared at the side of the house, lounging lazily beside Derek as if he’d been there the whole time. Isaac yelped out a surprised curse and dropped the knife he’d been just about to whip at a tree.

“What?” Isaac asked, looking between Chris and Derek, unsure of what to make of them. Derek was smirking, obviously pleased that Chris’s presence had thrown Isaac off so much. Asshole.

“The way you’re throwing the knives is all wrong. You have to be vertical, rather than horizontal.” He walked over to Isaac, picking up the knife he’d dropped. He put it in Isaac’s hand and moved around his fingers until he was holding the handle correctly. Chris did the action of throwing an invisible knife and expected Isaac to mimic it perfectly, which he didn’t. “This may take a while.” Chris said, looking perplexed and impatient.

Derek shrugged. “Take all the time you need.”

Isaac groaned internally. It was bad enough having Derek trying to instill in him the power of self-confidence, but now Allison’s father was going to be his Yoda?

Yeah. This was definitely going to take a while.

\---

Things actually felt like they were improving.

It was a rough start – not only did Isaac instantly fail at the paintball game, but not ten minutes later Danny emerged from the forest with a broken collarbone and an apologetic Jackson trailing closely behind – but after a few hiccups in the beginning, things started to improve.

Derek taught Danny how to set and heal his broken bones; a lesson all of his betas would have to learn quickly. Jackson heard the lesson, watched Derek perform the set, but it was unlikely that he’d learned anything. He’d really been staring over at Isaac and Chris Argent the entire time.

“Isn’t he part of the reason we’re doing this? To get better at defending ourselves against hunters?” Jackson asked, his eyes narrowed in ignorant judgement.

Derek fixed him with an irritated glower. “You’re right. We need to learn how to defend ourselves, and how to eliminate those that threaten us. To do that you all need to train, otherwise you’ll all end up getting killed. Chris isn’t here as a hunter. He’s here as your teacher and as Allison’s father. He isn’t a threat to us.”

Chris had been the one to approach Derek. Allison had told him what Derek was planning – the pack would meet up five times a week, every week, to build their strength as a collective.

At first Derek felt like Chris was trying to undermine him. As the alpha, Derek was fully capable of training his betas – or, at least, he should have been. The fact that Derek had little experience with being an alpha is what was holding him and his pack back from being all that they could be.

Which was where Chris came in.

He had years of experience and knowledge dealing with supernatural creatures. Derek had been raised to stay hidden and how to protect himself. Chris had been raised to do all that while hunting some of the most dangerous creatures in existence.

Anything he was willing to teach them, Derek was grateful. Just as he was grateful that Deaton had agreed to take Lydia and Stiles under his wing.

Packs weren’t built by the omega mentality – doing things alone, trusting no one – it took more than one alone to raise a pack to its true potential. Chris represented the strength and experience of a true hunter, Deaton the knowledge and competence of an emissary, and Derek the power and resilience of an alpha werewolf.

Together they might actually be able to whip Derek’s group of misfits into shape.

\---

“This is… actually somewhat interesting.” Lydia sounded pleasantly surprised as she studied the texture of the root Deaton had handed to her. Stiles reached out to take a turn examining the orris root, but Lydia pulled it away from him and swatted at his outstretched hand.

“This root, when ground up and sprinkled on a flame, can help focus certain vibrations of spell work. Particularly, this root is excellent for divination spells. It’s also known to help with protections and… well… love spells. But that’s a more personal sect of magic that we won’t be exploring.” Deaton explained, getting obviously uncomfortable at the prospect of love magic.

Stiles decided to poke.

“Love magic, huh? I thought magic couldn’t touch love, time, or death. Or did every fairy tale ever lie to me?” Stiles smirked at Deaton’s deadpan expression.

“If you’d been listening at all, you’d know that the magic I’m talking about isn’t the same as what you’re used to seeing or hearing about. We don’t loom over boiling cauldrons, hexing ex-lovers and making deals with the devil. We are an order of powerful, independent spiritualists with one hand in the human realm and the other in the spiritual. Holders of occult knowledge. The bridge between the mundane and the fantastic. We are not a joke, Stiles. What we do and what we know isn’t something to make light of.” Deaton chastised him, and Stiles felt only a little bad about the wisecrack.

Lydia sighed. “Still sounds like something one might say if they wanted to be admitted into the Eichen House.”

Stiles agreed with her. He could accept that werewolves existed – Scott had been one now for some time, and it was clear that there was a supernatural world beyond that which humans were aware of. But magic?

The only time he’d seen anything remotely magical was when he’d put the ring of Mountain Ash around the building to trap the werewolves inside. That had almost gotten Scott killed, so Stiles wasn’t too keen on the idea that magic could be used to their advantage, when half the pack couldn’t even touch it.

And the way Deaton explained it, it wasn’t even _real_ magic. There wouldn’t be any wands or sparkly explosions of power. What Deaton was teaching them was less about theatrics and more about ruminating on a specific energy or feeling until it manifested itself physically in some way. It was a natural manipulation of energy, which meant that nature was very important to the success and potency of the magic they were going to be casting.

Stiles wasn’t particularly drawn to the outside world – many an hours had been spent holed up in the safety and security of his room – but as a child he’d spent most of his days basking in the sun, ignoring his mother’s warnings of inheriting her pale, fragile skin that was prone to burning. Nowadays he was only inclined to enter the woods if there was a mystery lying in wait for him there.

“This all sounds very Wiccan.” Lydia decided, an unimpressed quirk pulling at the corners of her lips. “Positive thoughts, pure intentions. Let it harm none, so let it be. Very New Age. Very boring.” She sighed, setting the orris aside and brushing the root’s residue off of her hands. “I don’t see how meditating can help us kill the baddies.”

It was Deaton’s turn to look unimpressed. “Alright, you two seem to be misunderstanding and underestimating the vital role you will be fulfilling. Knowledge is power. The more you know, the stronger you’ll be. Right now your pack has a lot of brawn – Derek as the Alpha, the Betas as the cavalry. Allison has had some training thanks to her hunter heritage, in devising and leading. But what I’m going to teach you two, is going to help orchestrate the future of the pack.”

Stiles and Lydia exchanged a glance.

“And… Derek agreed to this?” Stiles asked, still skeptical. Not too long ago, Derek never would’ve given up even a sliver of control of the pack.

“He’s the one who suggested it.” Deaton replied, his lips in a thin line. “Now, will you two please sit still long enough to learn something today?” Stiles and Lydia nodded, sharing shameful frowns of disciplined children. “Good.”

They spent the rest of the hour leafing through various cards of different plants and their respective powers. Only when Stiles had started getting truly antsy – accidentally knocking over a few vials full of… some sort of glowing fluids – did Deaton call for a lunch break.

Melanie, who had been sitting in the corner quietly colouring in a book full of fairy imagery, bounded over to Stiles when Deaton called it. She hugged Stiles’s leg, looking up at him with a bright, hopeful smile. “Can I play with Maya?”

It took Stiles a moment to realize who she was talking about. She’d gotten quite close to the Doberman pup, to the point where she’d outright refused to shift back into her human form so that she didn’t have to stop playing with the puppy.

Stiles looked over at Deaton, who gave a not so helpful shrug.

“You can play with her, but only if you promise to come with me when it’s time to go.” Stiles said, and Melanie let out a high-pitched squeal of excitement. She bolted into the back kennels with Stiles lagging slowly behind.

Once they reached the cages, Stiles unlocked Maya’s cage and the pup’s entire body wriggled with glee. The moment she was free she threw herself at Melanie, licking and nuzzling her face with excitement.

“Stiles, could I speak you with privately for a moment?” Deaton asked, already motioning for Stiles to join him in the next room. Stiles lingered long enough for Lydia to roll her eyes and waving him away, taking up a watchful position over the young ones.

Stiles nodded his thanks and followed Deaton.

“I’m sorry about earlier,” Stiles began, before Deaton could begin chastising him for being difficult earlier, “I don’t like sitting around when I could be out there with the rest of the pack, y’know? I want to be helpful.” He paused, realizing how hurtful that might have been. “I mean, not that I think what you’re teaching us isn’t useful, but I want to fight for the pack.”

Deaton looked at Stiles for a long time. So long that Stiles began to feel a little uncomfortable.

“What I’m teaching you may lack in physical excitement, but it is extremely important to the survival of your pack. The reason I even agreed to teach you was because of your ability to improvise and see beyond the options that are the most apparent.” Deaton explained, surprising Stiles. “Werewolves tend to be of one singular mind. The rage inside often clouds their judgement, and their loyalty to their alpha imposes that their will be overlooked in favour of their alpha’s.”

Stiles crossed his arms, an act of stubborn defiance. “I’m loyal to Derek too. I’m his beta. So is Lydia. Are you saying we’d defy him?”

Deaton chuckled, smiling for the first time since Stiles had walked through the clinic door. “You have a rebellious nature – curious considering your father is an authority figure. But that wasn’t what I meant, and I apologize if you think I’m undermining your relationship with your alpha.” Deaton gave Stiles a knowing look, and he blushed under the heavy gaze.

Stiles cleared his throat, shaking off the momentary embarrassment. “Relationship?” He tried not to squeak, but he did. Deaton’s lips pinched into a smile.

“You are Derek’s beta, as you said, and you experience similar sensations through that bond as the werewolves. But there is a clear detachment. You only recently accepted your place in the pack, and that was only after entering into a romantic relationship with the alpha. Besides your personal hesitations, humans are less susceptible to the psychic bond that werewolves share, if only because humans haven’t evolved the same way that werewolves have over the years.”

After Deaton’s speech Stiles remained silent, trying to sort out exactly what the other man had just said.

“Alright, I think I understand what you’re saying.” Stiles paused and Deaton waited expectantly for him to continue. “I share a bond with the pack, but because I’m not living the werewolf experience, I don’t blindly follow the alpha like the others. I’m free to make my own decisions and formulate my own opinions, which makes me great at seeing the bigger picture rather than the one Derek wants us all to see.”

Deaton nodded, letting out a small sigh of relief, probably happy that something he’d said had finally sunk in. “Exactly. The only correction I would make is the assumption that the others can’t think for themselves. They’re still individuals and they can still make their own choices, which is why it’s extremely important for all the members of a pack to get along and strive towards the same goal. As long as everyone’s on the same page, they’re free to trust their alpha. To trust that Derek is leading them towards a unified future.”

Stiles nodded. He understood what Deaton was saying – pack dynamics were complicated. Before, when Stiles was second-guessing Derek constantly, he was weakening the bonds of their pack. Not just between himself and Derek, but the others as well.

“So I need to stop antagonizing Derek.” Stiles muttered, eliciting a snort from Deaton.

“You need to start helping him.” Deaton confirmed, and then took his leave from the room, allowing Stiles to stew in his own thoughts.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> With school starting, I'm actually hoping to write a lot more of this - and other stories. So updates will be coming more regularly!


	24. Chapter 24

“I am _exhausted_.” Stiles exclaimed, plopping himself down on Derek’s couch and instantly sinking as low as was possible into the cushions. “I just spent the last three hours trying to cast a protections spell on a pencil. A _pencil_.”

Derek’s eyebrows pulled down into a frown. “A pencil?”

Stiles nodded, snagging a pillow and snuggling it close to his chest. The behaviour reminded Derek of how Melanie cuddled with her stuffed animal when she began to get sleepy.

“I couldn’t even do it, that’s the saddest part of all.” Stiles whimpered, burying his face into the soft fabric, likely looking for comfort. Derek knew a quick way to remedy Stiles’s disappointment.

He crossed the room and found his place next to Stiles on the couch. Before Stiles could protest, Derek grabbed the pillow from his hands and tossed it on the floor. He pulled Stiles in close to him, resting the other boy’s back against his chest. Stiles’s head lolled back, resting comfortably in the curve of Derek’s neck. The boy’s messy hair tickled at Derek’s cheek and nose, but he didn’t mind.

“How did Lydia do?” He hoped the red head hadn’t been able to achieve what Stiles could not. Hopefully that would be enough to prove to Stiles that his failure hadn’t been a failure at all, it was a first step, and it would take some time before the art of magic could be mastered.

Stiles began chewing on his lower lip. “She didn’t have much luck with it either. Deaton said it might take days – even months – before either one of us able to cast any kind of magic. Right now it’s more important that we learn what kind of magical properties certain roots and other nature-type things have.”

Derek chuckled, nuzzling the top of Stiles’s head with his nose. He closed his eyes and inhaled. Scenting Stiles brought peace to Derek, made him feel relaxed. At the moment, Stiles’s scent was a smorgasbord of different distillates – predominantly Melanie, though that was expected considering Stiles had spent the majority of the day with her, and she _loved_ scent marking him. Beyond her, Derek could smell faint traces of Deaton and Lydia, dogs, cats, medicine, and there was an underlying scent that never went away, no matter the state of Stiles.

He always smelled like how home felt.

Derek didn’t know how else to explain it. If anything, the scent was more like a constant feeling that exuberated from Stiles.

It hadn’t always been there. It was a new development that Derek wasn’t about to complain about.

“Don’t get me wrong, Deaton’s a good guy, but most of what he says is convoluted. I don’t understand why he can’t just say things. I thought we were beyond shrouding mysteries in piles and piles of bullshit. Just explain to me why magic is a thing in less than ten words. That’s all I ask.” Stiles puffed out an exasperated sigh. A moment later he tilted his head back, staring up at Derek at a ridiculously awkward angle. “I’m sorry. All I’ve done is complain about my day, but it was actually pretty cool, learning about this kind of stuff. I’m just impatient.”

Derek chuckled. “I know.”

Stiles rolled his eyes before getting comfortable again, looking away from Derek and over at the bed where Melanie was passed out.

“How was your day with the pups? They as tuckered out as Mel?” Stiles asked, and Derek tried to ignore the _pup_ slur.

“They need to train more. Isaac didn’t survive five minutes before both girls tagged him. Jackson’s too rough, Danny’s too slow, Scott and Allison are too caught up in each other to notice they’re being stalked by a very aggressive, chaotic Erica. Boyd was the only one who didn’t get tagged, but he was also the only one who didn’t tag anyone else. He’s gotta put himself out there more.” Derek could feel his anger beginning to boil – he was angry at himself, for not raising his pack to be better.

But maybe he was just being impatient, like Stiles.

Stiles seemed to sense Derek’s mood change. He shifted so that their chests were flush against each other, his face mere inches away from Derek’s.

“Good.” Stiles said, and Derek frowned in confusion. How was any of this _good_? “Coach does this thing where he records us on the field so that he can throw our failures in our faces repeatedly. It makes us feel like shit, of course, but it also helps us figure out where we went wrong. You’re already picking up on that stuff. You see where improvements need to be made, and what needs to be adjusted. Now you just have to tell them. Teach them.”

Derek allowed a small smile and nod. He still wasn’t entirely convinced in his assessment of his betas, but Stiles made some sense.

“Relax.” Stiles said, his voice suddenly low. His deep brown eyes were fixed on Derek’s.

Stiles sat up, pinning Derek’s hips down as he perched there, his hands poised against Derek’s chest. He leaned forward, running his warm hands along Derek’s chest to his shoulders.

Stiles lowered his lips to Derek’s chest, trailing kisses along Derek’s collarbone to his shoulder. His hands slowly massaged while his lips teased at Derek’s neck. Derek’s shirt kept getting in the way; a barrier between Stiles’s soft lips and Derek’s increasingly warm skin.

“Stop being so hard on yourself. You’re a good alpha.” Stiles said, his voice low and coaxing.

Derek was already feeling the effect of Stiles’s hands, lips, and voice combined – half-hard and mind clouded with desire. Making things even _harder_ , Stiles’s hand strayed back down Derek’s chest, fingers teasing at the belt that was keeping everything restrained.

Stiles leaned down, capturing Derek’s lips in a warm, inviting kiss. It was slow and languid, a pace that drove Derek wild with a desire for _more_.

Once their lips parted, Derek fought the urge to chase Stiles’s mouth.

“I should probably leave.” Stiles said, though it was obvious the statement caused him physical pain. He looked over to where Melanie was sleeping on the bed, a conflicted expression chasing away whatever lust had previously occupied his mind. “Mel needs her rest, and I am not about to explain to a six year old where babies come from.”

Derek knew Stiles was right to stop things before they got too heated, but he couldn’t help himself.

Ignoring Stiles’s attempts to detach himself from Derek, he grabbed onto Stiles’s hips, pulling him down while he lifted himself up, creating enough friction to send a shudder of pleasure through them both. Stiles let out a whimper, fingers digging into Derek’s hips.

“Dude.” Stiles protested, but the way his eyes fluttered closed urged Derek on. He pulled Stiles down, sliding his hips until there was enough space to grind against Stiles again. This time Derek’s dick slid against Stiles’s, and the sensation was white hot and wonderful.

Another moan.

Stiles’s hips began to move on their own, his hands grabbing fistfuls of Derek’s shirt and pulling hard, as if they could somehow bring Derek closer to Stiles’s body than he already was.

It was at that point that Derek heard someone climbing the stairs of the building up to his apartment.

He steadied Stiles’s hips. “Stiles.” Derek whispered sharply, attempting to break Stiles out of his haze. Stiles’s reply was another moan. Derek took a deep breath – not a great idea considering the air was thick with Stiles’s aroused scent – and tried to focus on who was approaching. “There’s someone coming.”

With a small whimper Stiles stilled, though his body still shook occasionally.

He dismounted Derek and fixed himself, affording Derek the opportunity to stand from the couch and make his way downstairs to the front door. As the intruder approached, Derek was better able to pinpoint their scent – another werewolf. It seemed familiar, though it was muddled with a thousand unfamiliar scents.

“Knock, knock,” The intruder announced his presence, and Derek instantly recognized his uncle’s voice.

He let his alpha bubble to the surface, allowing his rage to fuel his power. Peter let himself in, stopping abruptly upon seeing his nephew’s glowing red eyes.

“Is that really any way to greet your family?” Peter asked, temping Derek’s temper, but he ignored the older man’s obvious manipulation. “How long has it been? Months? Years? And not one single phone call.” Peter clicked his tongue, an obnoxiously irritating noise that grated on Derek’s already thin nerves. “If your mother could see you now.”

“Get out.” Derek bit off each word, flashing his eyes threateningly. When his uncle didn’t respond, Derek let out a roar of rage, shaking the walls and floors with the power of it.

Stiles came racing down the stairs but came to a full stop when he saw Peter standing in the doorway. “What is that asshole doing here?” He asked, taking a step back up the stairs. Peter scoffed, crossing his arms as he nonchalantly leaned against the wall.

“No need to back off so quickly Stiles, I’m not here to bite you.” Peter said, tilting a smirk in Stiles’s direction.

Stiles tensed, his fingers gripping the railing tightly. Derek knew why Stiles was making his way back up the stairs, and it wasn’t because he was afraid of Peter. Mel was stirring, woken up by Derek’s roar, and she was afraid. Her heart was beating wildly, and even though Stiles couldn’t hear it, he was compelled to protect her.

“Stiles,” Derek said, never taking his eyes off of Peter, “go upstairs.”

Stiles didn’t hesitate, ignoring Peter’s dramatic eye roll. He retreated up the stairs, leaving Derek to deal with Peter alone. Derek waited until he heard Stiles’s voice softly consoling the woken up child, and then he directed his full attention on Peter.

“Get out.” Derek renewed his demand from before.

“Ordering people around already and you haven’t even been alpha for a day.” Peter shook his head in mock exasperation. “Can’t say leadership suits you, nephew.”

Derek gave his uncle a sharp, sardonic smile. “Better than it ever did you. At least I’m not a raging psychopath.”

Peter rolled his eyes, shrugging it off and ignoring Derek’s dig altogether. “I’m here because I need to ask a favour.” How was it that out of all of Derek’s family members, Peter had been the only one to survive? His uncle had been an entitled, egotistical maniac for as long as Derek could remember. If anyone had deserved to die in the fire, it was him.

“This is the last time I’m going to say this, Peter. Get out. Leave town. Never come back. Was that not clear enough the first time?” Derek growled, making himself appear as big as possible by straightening himself out and raising his chin in his uncle’s direction.

Derek was the alpha now. Even if Peter wasn’t part of his pack, he would obey Derek. If he didn’t, Derek would kill him.

“Just hear me out,” Peter further challenged, obviously unaffected by Derek’s attempts at gaining authority. “I need your help dealing with something. It’s a personal matter. Extremely sensitive.”

Derek remained silent, his eyes sharp daggers as he glared at Peter.

“I may have gotten into a bit of trouble with a certain faction of hunters. They seem to be under the impression that I killed their leader’s daughter, or something of the caliber. Honestly, I wasn’t really listening. Was more focused on dodging bullets and avoiding imminent death.”

“Sounds like you have a problem.” Derek said, feigning sympathy. His uncle gave him an unimpressed look. “I think you should treat my pack and I the same way you treat those hunters. Avoid us, or we’ll kill you. This is your final warning.”

Peter sighed, rolling his eyes. “Fine Derek, have it your way. I’ll leave, and I’ll probably die.” Peter said, a dramatic tone to his words. Derek thought it highly unlikely that getting rid of his uncle would be so easy – cockroaches are _extremely_ difficult to kill, after all.

When Peter finally skulked away, Derek waited until he could no longer hear his uncle’s heart beat to turn his back to the door and relax the tension bundled up in his shoulders.

He returned to Stiles upstairs to find the human boy cuddled up with Melanie on the bed. She had her head rested on his chest, her eyes closed and fluttering every so often. The entire scene was sweet – though Derek would never say such a thing out loud.

When Stiles realized Derek was at the top of the stairs he made a movement to come and join him, but Mel’s fingers curled and held on tight to Stiles’s shirt. Stiles smiled softly, endeared by the cub’s affectionate nature.

Without a word, Derek crossed the room and climbed into the bed on the other side of Melanie. He knew Stiles wanted to find out what Peter wanted, but he could explain later.

He nestled into the bed, draping an arm over Melanie so that he could hold Stiles’s hand on the other side.

He fell asleep easily, forgetting all about Peter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> School's a lot busier than I thought it would be! And on top of that, my tablet may have taken a tumble and died on my second day of classes :'(. But I will continue to write!! Hopefully more soon by the end of this week!


	25. Chapter 25

“Are you sure you wanna do this?” Deaton asked. Derek thought about it for a moment, pursing his lips and tilting his head. “It’s a big commitment and responsibility.” Deaton levelled Derek with a serious look.

“I think I can handle it.” Derek replied drily, looking away from Deaton’s heavy gaze to the Doberman puppy. Maya gazed up at him, sitting perfectly still behind the gate. There was something in her gaze – _attitude_ – as she side-eyed him.

Deaton chuckled. “Alright, if you say so.” He reached into his coat pocket and pulled out the keys to her cage. “Maya’s very energetic, so you should walk her at least three times a day, not including all the times you take her out to go to the washroom. Her stomach is a little fussy, so she can only eat kibble that’s all natural, otherwise she’ll get the runs, so no Puppy Chow. I have her on Orijen right now, and it seems to be best.”

Derek made a mental note and motioned for Deaton to let the pup out already. Deaton paused, realizing Derek didn’t want an entire sermon. He bent over and unlocked the cage.

Derek knelt down, patting his leg for Maya to come out of her cage. She didn’t need further permission.

She darted out of the cage and began running down the narrow hallway to the door that led out. She plopped her butt down, looking between Derek and the door. She yipped once, scratching at the doorframe.

Deaton chuckled; Derek sensed that this pup was going to be a handful.

He didn’t know if he could handle a puppy _and_ a cub, but he was going to try.

He hadn’t told Stiles or any of the others that he was doing this, and he’d expressly asked Deaton to keep this between the two of them. In part it was because he wanted to surprise everyone; the other part of him thought this was a terrible idea.

Worst case he got overwhelmed and had to pawn Maya off on Stiles or something. Best case scenario, Maya and Mel tired each other out by playing.

“If you have any questions at all just call me, you have my personal number.” Deaton said, smiling. “Oh, and I have the number of a very successful puppy training school, if you should be so inclined.”

Derek approached Maya, hooking the leash around her collar. She looked up at him, a tone of impatience in her gaze. Derek was already beginning to think he’d gotten himself in over his head.

\---

Before he could even open the door to his apartment, Melanie was pulling it open, her eyes bright with excitement. She took one look at Maya and let out an ear-splitting squeal of joy, instantly shifting into her cougar cub form. Maya barked happily, throwing both paws down on the ground to initiate play time.

Derek made quick work of unhooking her leash and the pup jumped away the moment she was free, tackling Melanie so that they both flopped over. They wriggled and nipped at each other, and then darted into the apartment when one of them broke free.

“What is going on?” Lydia asked, suddenly appearing in the open doorway of the kitchen. She was holding a sandwich and juice box, but set them aside when she saw Derek. “Derek, I didn’t think you’d be home so early. And you brought a puppy with you.” She nodded, crossing her arms. “Good luck with that.” She grabbed her purse and headed for the door.

“Where do you think you’re going?” Derek asked, barring her way. She arched an eyebrow at him, peering over at the playing pups before returning her skeptical gaze back to him.

“As adorable as I think this is, I’ve already been saddled with Maya and Melanie babysitting time once this week. That is my yearly quota.” She tried to go around Derek but he made himself bigger, blocking the entire doorway leading out. He smiled at her. She rolled her eyes and sighed. “Fine. But if there are any accidents I am _not_ cleaning it up. Understood.”

Derek thought about it for a moment. He nodded. “Fair enough.”

A few hours later, and after a few incidents regarding too rough horseplay and bladder control difficulties, the two young ones finally fell over, exhausted. Lydia tucked them into Derek’s bed upstairs. Derek was cleaning up the last bit of destruction when Lydia cleared her throat to get his attention.

“Is this a permanent thing?” She asked. He shrugged. Maya made Melanie happy, and that made Derek happy. It was probably a permanent thing. “Are you going to tell Stiles? Or is this a surprise?”

Derek smirked. “Surprise. He’s hinted once or twice that he was thinking about adopting Maya. This way Mel won’t be growing up alone.”

Lydia frowned. “‘Growing up’? Derek, how long do you think Mel’s going to be staying with you?”

Derek blinked, taken aback by the question. He hadn’t actually thought about that. His main motivation had been short term in nature – he needed something that would distract Melanie while they figured out what happened to her family – but getting a dog was a long-term commitment. Building a relationship with Melanie was a long-term commitment.

“Huh,” he paused as he mulled it over. “Honestly I wasn’t thinking that far ahead. I just assumed she’d be here for a while. As far as we know we’re the only ones she has to take care of her.” Even though he’d been against looking after her at first, he’d grown fond of the idea of having a cub around.

“We should find out if she’s even legal.” Lydia said, pinching her lips as she scrolled through her phone.

“Legal? She’s a shapeshifter, Lydia. I don’t think they have any laws for that.” Derek said, and Lydia gave him a dry look.

“You’re a werewolf and an American citizen. Technically you’re legal. She should have a birth certificate, and the police should be notified about her family.” What Lydia was saying made sense, but Derek didn’t want to chance losing Melanie to the foster system, and he didn’t want humans getting involved with supernatural affairs.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea.” Derek grumbled, but Lydia was already dialling on her phone.

“Stiles,” She said, turning her back to Derek. The blatant disregard for Derek’s opinion irritated him, but he allowed it. She was right, and he knew it, he just didn’t want to admit it. “Derek wants you to tell your father about Melanie’s family. We need the police to know about their death so that we can figure out more about her family’s history.”

“Couldn’t we just break in to their files or something?” Stiles asked, and for a moment Derek felt relieved. Lydia scoffed.

“Absolutely. Let’s just break in to city hall and steal sealed files.” Lydia was being sarcastic but Derek didn’t see a problem with that plan. Apparently Stiles didn’t either.

“I can ask Danny to hack into their systems, that way we don’t have to leave the comfort of our homes.” Stiles supplied. Lydia crossed her arms.

“No, Stiles. We have to deal with all of this legally. There are serious implications if Melanie is orphaned, and if her parents had a will it might tell us where to look next for her relatives.” Lydia continued. Derek wanted to argue, but Stiles took care of it for him.

“The government doesn’t need to know anything about this. We can look after her without all that bullshit.”

Lydia made a grunting sound in the back of her throat. “Not true and you know it. Tell your father about it or I will.” She hung up and turned to pin a disapproving look on Derek. “Your boyfriend needs to learn how to take orders.”

Derek smirked. “Tell me about it.”

\---

“If we do this, Melanie’s going to find out about her family.” Stiles said. He’d called Derek the moment Lydia hung up on him.

“She’s going to have to find out sooner or later…” Derek trailed off. Stiles could tell Derek wasn’t thrilled about this either. “You should come over. We should tell her together, before the police find out and the reporters plaster the story all over the news.”

Stiles looked at his clock. It was seven o’clock. His dad would get home in an hour, and then Stiles would tell him about Melanie. Obviously he wouldn’t share _all_ the details – his father still didn’t know about the world of supernatural, so he’d have to explain a few things… like why he hadn’t called the police right away when he found Melanie, and how he knew about her family’s house in the middle of the woods.

“I’ll be there in ten minutes.” Stiles promised. They said their goodbyes and Stiles quickly made his way over. He dreaded Melanie’s reaction. What if she got angry at him? What if she got emotionally traumatized? Stiles couldn’t bear the thought of such a sweet, innocent little girl losing a part of herself that way.

The elevator ride up lasted an eternity. He kept thinking about all the things he might say to her to make this easier for her to cope with. No amount of explanations or words would ever make this better though. He knew that, but he was determined to shelter her from everything wrong and terrible in the world.

He got to the apartment and let himself in. Almost immediately a yipping Doberman and mewing cougar ambushed him. Momentarily he was distracted by the overwhelming amount of kisses he was getting from the two most adorable creatures in the world.

“You adopted Maya!” Stiles exclaimed happily, scooping the puppy up in his arms. The Doberman wiggled in an attempt to break free, but kept kissing Stiles’s cheeks and neck at the same time. Melanie transformed into her human self and grabbed at Stiles’s clothes, whining for more attention than the puppy.

Stiles set the pup down and swept Melanie into his arms instead. She wrapped her arms around his neck and squeezed, almost choking him half to death before she relented and pulled away to kiss his cheek. “Stiles!” She squealed. “Look!” She said, pointing at Maya. Stiles laughed.

“I know! Maya’s here! Now you guys can play together all the time!” Stiles matched the tiny child’s excitement tenfold, ramping her up even more than she was before. She screeched and wiggled until Stiles set her down, and then shifted so that she could chase Maya around the apartment.

“She’s on a Stiles rush,” Derek remarked from where he’d been watching. He was leaning against the wall, his arms crossed. Stiles smirked and made his way over to him, avoiding close collisions with the young ones as they trampled everything in their path.

When Stiles reached Derek he greeted him with a warm kiss.

“Are you ready to do this?” Derek asked once they’d pulled away. Stiles looked over at Melanie, saw how happy she was with Maya. He didn’t want to ruin that. Not yet.

“Can we give her a bit more time to play?” Stiles asked. Derek nodded, kissing the top of Stiles’s head.

“Call your dad. Tell him you’re spending the night at Scott’s.” Derek said as he led Stiles over to the sofa. Stiles tilted his head, confused.

“I’m going to Scott’s?” He asked. Derek shook his head, looking over at the pup and cub.

“I have a feeling it’s going to be a long night. Mel will probably want you here.” Derek answered. “I want you here.”

Stiles understood. He’d be there for Mel for as long as she needed him. He’d be there for Derek as long as he’d have him.


End file.
